


The Inevitability of Life (Fuck It List)

by kiddle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bucket List, Camping, Drinking, Eventual Sex, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hiking, Humor, Karaoke, Las Vegas, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Musician Louis, Non-Famous, Road Trips, Strangers to Lovers, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 62,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiddle/pseuds/kiddle
Summary: Harry is not dying.Well, he is, but in the same sense that everyone else is. Inevitably. Although, he's not really living, either. Harry's life is a routine. Every day he wakes up, eats the same breakfast, makes the same commute to work, works the same eight hour shift, and goes to bed at the same time. But when an accident on a train leaves Harry nearly looking death in the eyes, he realizes, theoretically, any day could be his last. Something needs to change. So he makes a list. The Fuck-It List: ten things he wishes he would've done if he were to die tomorrow. In the next ten days he wants to cross all of them off. Number one is to quit his job. The rest might require the help of the stranger who almost accidentally killed him.Or, Harry wants to remember what it's like to feel alive again, and Louis has just the adventurous spirit he's looking for.





	1. Prologue: A Day in the Life

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to finally share this fic! I say this every time, but this is definitely the story I'm most proud of so far. It's pretty different from what I usually write, but I think that's a good thing. Just a few quick things I wanted to mention before we get started: It's going to be around 12 or 13 chapters total including the prologue and epilogue, so not super long. Updates should be every ten days or so, but not longer than two weeks apart. The time stamps in the prologue is only the formatting for that part, not the entire fic. No warnings should be needed except for sexual content, which was mentioned in the tags. I would also recommend not reading all the chapter titles before you read the actual chapters because they're each named after a list item, but there won't be any huge spoilers if you do anyway.  
> So that's it! I really love this story a lot and I hope you do as well. If you have any feedback of any kind I'd love to hear about it in the comments. Thank you so much in advance for giving this story a chance, it really means a lot.  
> Like always, I hope you enjoy it!

7:30AM: Harry woke with a long stretch and planted both feet on the ground. He threaded a hand through his hair so his reflection didn’t horrify him when he reached the bathroom. From the small cup next to his sink, he took his toothbrush and squeezed a dollop of toothpaste on it. For two minutes he brushed. _Spit_. Then he got into the shower.

8:00AM: With his hair dried and his grey suit jacket hanging from his shoulders, Harry entered his small apartment’s kitchen. He took a spoon and a bowl from the cupboard and put the kettle on. He used to switch on the TV to watch the news while he ate. It’s all too depressing now, so he didn’t anymore. He dumped a package of instant porridge into the bowl and added the water from the kettle. While it was cooling he poured a cup of coffee from the maker. No sugar, only a splash of cream. He never cared for the taste, but it’s what got him through the day. He ate in the silence.

8:20AM: Bringing the bowl, spoon, and mug all to his sink, he washed and dried them by hand. There was a dishwasher in his kitchen, but he never used it. Since he lived alone, washing by hand was much easier. Taking a neatly folded rag from the drawer, he wet it with hot water and wiped off all the counters, then hung it to dry over the tap.

8:25AM: Opening the fridge, he took out his lunch that he made the night before. A turkey sandwich and an apple. He picked his keys up from the table near the entryway and turned the lights off. He locked the door behind him.

8:30AM: He stood alone on the tube. Never sat. He was young, he had his strength. Save the seats for someone who needed it.

8:50AM: He didn’t start work until 9, but he always came in ten minutes early. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was just because there was nothing else to do. He stopped in the break room first to put his lunch in the fridge. One of his co-workers was reading the paper at a table and drinking a cup of coffee. He knew his name. Niall. Always cheery, hated Mondays.

“Morning, Harry!”

“Mornin’.”

“Pretty nice out for a Monday, isn’t it?”

“I guess so.”

“How was your weekend? Do anything exciting?”

Harry hated that question. It wasn’t that he was against the pleasantries of talking to his co-workers. He just had nothing to say. He worked out for hours at his gym until he got too tired, watched movies on his couch until he got too tired, read a book his sister sent him until he got too tired. She was always trying to get him to read. He was always tired.

“Not really. How about you?”

“Same old. Went out to the pub with some friends. I’m tellin’ ‘ya, you should come along sometime. I think a couple of us around here are going for a drink tomorrow.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Harry knew he wouldn’t go, and so did Niall. He wasn’t much for going out. Didn’t care for drinking, didn’t care for being around so many people he barely knew. He liked his apartment. He liked his couch.

“See ‘ya around, Harry.”

9:00AM: He sat at the desk in his cubicle and worked.

1:00PM: Lunch. Something he could always look forward to. Most people took their lunch at twelve, so he took his at one. The break room was nicer when it was quiet.

2:00PM: Work.

3:30PM: He needed his afternoon coffee break. It’s what got him through the day. When he walked through the door, he hoped someone else would be there. As much as he liked the quiet, afternoons were good for chatting. His cubicle got lonely after so long.

A girl from HR was standing at the counter brewing the next pot. That meant he’d have to wait.

“How’s your day going?” asked the girl. Her name was Sharon and he always thought she was nice. Overly nice, in some cases, but he wasn’t cynical enough to see that as a bad thing. She asked him once if he’d like to get dinner with him sometime. He had to politely decline, but they remained friendly. He just didn’t like to date.

They conversed until the coffee was done, then Harry poured his cup and left.

3:45PM: Work.

5:00PM: The best time of the day.

5:01PM: Harry was already out the door.

5:20PM: He unlocked his apartment door and set the keys back down on the table. Picking the TV remote off the table, he turned in on to the last channel he was watching and let it play in the background. When he reached his room, he changed into a pair a joggers and a loose white t-shirt. Much more comfortable than the grey suit. He returned to the lounge and sat on his couch.

6:30PM: Leftovers were his usual go-to for dinner. He pulled a container of Sheppard’s pie out of the freezer and stuck in in the microwave. Every so often his mum would stop by and bring over some cooking that would last him a few days. He told her she didn’t have to. She insisted once she found out he stopped cooking for himself. She asked him to stop by for dinner this Thursday. He said he would. His mum was one person whom he couldn’t break a promise he’d made to.

The microwave beeped and he grabbed a fork from the drawer. He sat on the couch and ate right from the container.

8:00PM: Every night Harry tried to do some sort of workout. If he didn’t feel like going to the gym, he’d just figure something out at home. Weights, push-ups, sit-ups. He tried to do a hundred of each. It wasn’t that difficult.

9:00PM: As hard as he tried, he could never fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Oh, how he envied the people who could. Instead, he would read. Usually it was something his sister sent him, sometimes something he picked up from the store. He didn’t always like the books, but he always finished them. He didn’t like to give up. He’d already done too much of that in his life.

10:00PM: Sleep. Hopefully. If he could.


	2. 1. Quit my job.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ultimate meaning to which all stories refer has two faces: the continuity of life, the inevitability of death. -Italo Calvino

Tuesday morning felt different. Which was strange, because in Harry’s life the days never felt different. His days were simple, easy.

When he got out of bed, his feet landed on the right side of his room. That didn’t make sense. He always slept on the left side of his bed. He walked around his bed to get to the bathroom. His toothbrush was sitting on the counter instead of on the sink. Odd, but not shocking. In the shower he squeezed the bottle of conditioner into his hand. Only a few drops came out. Usually he’d already bought a new one by then. How did he not notice?

He went through the next steps slower. Dried his hair, shaved, put on deodorant. He stepped into his closet to get his suit. When he looked at the jacket he planned to wear today, there was a small stain on it. There was no way he could show up to work like that. He looked through the hangers and picked out a dark blue jacket instead. Almost always he would wear either black or grey. This suit he wasn’t even sure he’d worn outside of the store he bought it from yet.

Entering the kitchen, he turned the kettle on for breakfast, then grabbed a bowl and a spoon. He opened the cupboard to find a package of porridge, but the box was empty. Strange.

He glanced around the rest of the shelves and noticed a jar of peanut butter. He took it out instead and found a loaf of bread in his fridge, then turned the kettle off and dumped out the water. He’d have toast today. It was different. It felt odd for him to do something different.

He drank his coffee and ate in silence. When he looked up at the clock, he froze. It was already 8:30. That meant he missed his stop on the tube. He rushed to get out the door, dropping the bowl in the sink without washing it. This is what happened when he changed his routine. He shouldn’t have picked the blue suit. He shouldn’t have forgotten to buy more porridge.

Emerging from his tiny apartment onto the streets of London, Harry felt like he walked through some sort of wormhole into another dimension. The pavement was crowded with people, all hurrying to get through their own daily routines. The sun glowed intensely in the sky, still a slight hue of orange from the sunrise, making it more evident than ever that it was a gorgeous summer day. Harry wondered why it wasn’t like this every day, or even five minutes earlier when he would usually have left. Perhaps this is what it’s like when you stop walking with your head down.

Even the tube didn’t feel the same. Harry took the same commute every day. Sometimes he even recognized the same faces, but not this morning. Those people were already gone. They stuck to their schedules. Harry screwed up.

There was someone busking with a guitar in the car where he stood, anxiously tapping a thumb against the bar he was holding on to. The person was an older woman, small with thin bones, well into her sixties. She wore a long purple dress with blue flowers on it. The white hair on her head was tied into a neat bun, like a nurse from the forties. Spread out on the floor in front of her was a large brimmed hat, the colour matching her dress. A few people already tossed a few coins in. Harry had to admit, she was quite good. She played arpeggios from songs he never heard. He wondered if they might be originals.

In his pocket he found some loose change and walked over to her, grabbing onto a new handle as he made his way up the car. As he dropped it into her hat, he smiled kindly. The one she offered back as she thanked him was just as warm.

Across the way he noticed a boy was watching their exchange. Well, not really a boy. He looked to be at least in his twenties. Definitely a man, but had this boyish look to him. Like he made it to his last year of university, then didn’t age a day since.

They met eyes and the boy- er, man- looked down and away. He was holding a magazine in his hands. Rolling Stone, to be specific. A music lover, Harry noted in his head. Not that he needed to take notes. He didn’t know this man. Although, there was something about him that looked oddly… familiar.

He tried a few more times to spare him fleeting glances. Long enough to capture more details, but not so much as to seem like he was staring. But he was definitely staring. The first thing he noticed were the cheek bones. The way they curved down from his eyes and past his mouth to meet his jaw. Then there was the faint stubble that took away from the boyish façade Harry originally gathered. His hair fell feathered across his forehead, over his ears, and down to his neck. Hugging his legs were a pair of skinny jeans and he wore a denim jacket that was covered in patches over a graphic tee. Not headed into any sort of office for work, Harry assumed.

The man was smirking as he read, then glanced up to meet Harry’s eyes, expression unchanging. Harry diverted his gaze much more obviously. The man knew he was staring. Of course he knew. Harry didn’t exactly deserve any type of award in subtlety.

This morning was getting too weird. He just wanted to get to work.

On the far side of the car was where the disturbance started. A young guy wearing a grey hoodie and ripped blue jeans stood up from his seat. He lifted something from the waistband of his jeans and raised his hand. When the gun became visible everyone in the train car let out a collective gasp, most people rushing to cover their heads or taking to the ground.

“Everyone get your wallets out!” The guy demanded, still holding the gun to the ceiling. In his other hand he had an empty backpack, now unzipped. Some did as told, others screamed and remained in panic mode. Harry’s entire body froze. He felt completely paralyzed. Even his mind didn’t know what to do besides silently observe, almost like he was watching a movie. This didn’t feel like real life.

“I said get your fucking wallets out, all of you!” The guy shouted again, this time approaching a young woman and holding the gun near her abdomen. With shaky hands and tears brimming in her eyes, she dug into her purse and pulled out a designer brand wallet. The guy shoved the backpack at her and told her to drop it in. He moved onto the next person and the next, each one doing exactly as told.

When he got to Harry, he almost forgot he was a person. Until he was faced with the man, he was only on the outside looking in.

“I’m not going to ask you again!” The yelling in his face and the gun digging into his hip is what it took for Harry to register what was happening. He was a real person. He was watching through his eyes, not at a TV screen. Looking at the guy’s face, he thought he might try to remember it for later. Pale skin, bushy black eyebrows, hair matted on top of his head. His eyes were tired and sad. That didn’t make Harry feel any sort of sympathy for him, but he had the gun. So he reached his hand into his back pocket, slid his wallet out, and dropped it into the backpack.

His eyes drifted straight ahead as the guy moved on to the person next to him, then to the busker whose hat he took without a second thought. She didn’t protest. Harry met eyes with the magazine man again. He now had the magazine closed on his lap and remained calm. But only for a moment, because then he was looking back at the thief and jumping out of his seat.

The magazine man came at him from behind, trying to hold the thief’s arms at his sides. The thief struggled at first, trying to move his elbows up like wings on a chicken. More gasps followed as the magazine man then tried to grab the arm that held the gun. The thief was raising his hand, tying to move the gun out of the man’s reach, knowing he was nothing without it. Then it was pointed at Harry.

He ducked as soon as he heard the shot.

Everyone was on the floor now. Hands covering their heads, hoping to god that they weren’t the one who was hit. Harry was one of them. On the floor, hands over his head. A blaring alarm sounded and the whole train halted as it approached the next platform. Someone must’ve hit the emergency button. When he looked back up, the man had the thief on the ground, but was staring directly at Harry. Someone else kicked the gun under a seat, far out of anyone’s reach. The doors opened and four security guards came running in, handcuffs already in hand. Everything started to feel like a slow motion blur and the ringing in Harry’s ears only amplified. They tried to take both the thief and the magazine man into custody until all of the passengers started yelling that the magazine man was only trying to help - that he saved them all.

They dragged the thief off the train while another guard handed back wallets, checking the IDs of each one. Harry only now realized the intensity of his heartbeat. As he stood up, he looked at the wall behind him. There was a small hole where the bullet hit, just behind where his head was only a fraction of a second before. He thought the pounding of his heart might drop to a halt right there.

“Are you okay?” A voice asked from behind him, sounding muffled while the ringing died down. Harry turned around and saw the magazine man standing there, looking strained and concerned.

“I… think so,” Harry decided slowly, patting down his torso then running a hand through his hair.

“Shit, man, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” magazine man shook his head and covered his face for a moment. “That could’ve killed you.”

“It didn’t, though, so that’s good.”

“I’m so sorry, I- fuck!” Magazine man was clearly still running off of adrenaline. His stance was so giddy and he kept fidgeting with his hands.

“Really, it’s okay. You saved everyone. You’re like the tube hero,” he didn’t mean to joke, it just kind of slipped out. The magazine man cracked a smile.

“That better not be the headline tomorrow.”

“It would make a better headline than a superhero name. Not sure if The Tube Hero would stick. Maybe Tube Man, instead.”

“How are you so calm? You could’ve died, and it would’ve been all my fault!” This clearly stressed magazine man more than it stressed out Harry. Maybe he just hadn’t fully processed it all yet.

“I don’t think I’m calm. Just shocked.”

This seemed to sit better with magazine man. He straightened his posture and looked curiously at Harry. At his full height, Harry was only a few inches taller than him. “What’s your name?” Magazine man asked.

“Harry.”

“Alright, Harry, can I buy you a coffee? I need to find out how I can make it up to the person I almost accidentally killed.”

“You didn’t almost kill me.”

“Accidentally,” magazine man corrected.

A police officer approached them both and asked if they would get off the train since it would now be deemed a crime scene. He said they had a few questions to ask both Harry and the magazine man, but needed them separately.

“Can I still buy you a coffee afterwards?” magazine man asked before they parted ways on the platform, an officer standing behind each of them.

Harry checked his watch. It was already ten to nine. He was definitely going to be late now. “I really need to get to work,” he said.

“Rain check, then? Here, let me see your phone.”

Cautiously, Harry took his phone out of his pocket and handed it over to magazine man. He typed something in for a few moments then handed back to Harry.

“Call me when you’re free. And don’t forget to. I sure as hell won’t be able to forget the man I nearly killed.”

The police officer looked at him in disbelief for a moment, like he had just witnessed a confession.

“Accidentally,” Harry reassured. “I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”

 

Harry got to his office and collapsed into his cubicle. He didn’t stop in the breakroom to drop off his lunch or to say good morning to anyone. Just straight to his cubicle. Because holy _shit_ , he almost just _died_. Like in the literal way, not the “you won’t believe the shocking news I just discovered” way. A bullet was coming for his head and he ducked out of the way.

When Harry woke up that morning, he had no idea that the day had the potential to be his last.

He stared at the computer, his login screen open over a dull blue background. Instead of reaching for the keyboard, he just looked at it. Then his eyes followed down to the pad of paper next to him and the cup of pens and pencils. He glanced down at his phone with no pending notifications and the default lock screen he never bothered to change.

If he had died today, was this really all there was to the life he was leaving behind?

Footsteps approached his cubicle and he looked up. His boss stood in the entryway, arms folded over his chest and a sneer on his old, wrinkly face.

“You’re late.” He said simply in his gruff voice, aged prematurely from years of smoking.

“Sorry, you see, there was a problem on the tube this morning with-”

“I don’t like when my employees are late. Especially an hour late, at that. Slows down productivity. And I don’t like excuses.”

Harry nodded, just wishing his boss would leave him alone. He was kind of in the middle of an existential crisis.

“It won’t happen again,” Harry reassured him.

“It better not.”

As he walked away, Harry let out the breath he was holding in. He hated that guy, he really did. Didn’t give a shit about his employees or their own lives, only this company. This company that Harry found that he, himself, didn’t give a shit about.

If he had died today, would he be proud with this being all he’s accomplished?

Harry craned his head above the cubicle wall to peer at his coworkers. They all had their heads down, scrolling through files on their computers and typing in spreadsheets. He wondered if they were all proud of the life they had lead up to this point.

If he had died today, would he have died happy?

He kept thinking - thinking of all the things he’d done wrong, all the regrets he’d had thus far. There were far more than he’d like to admit. Then he thought of the other kinds of regrets. What he wished he would’ve done. It was a different list in his head. A much happier one. Less memories, more dreams.

Turning around in his swivel chair, he pulled a piece of paper out of the printer and placed it in front of him. He then reached forward to take a red pen out of the small cup and uncapped it. In big letters, all scratchy and messy, he wrote a title: THE FUCK-IT LIST.

Like a bucket list, but this wasn’t for him to complete over the span of his life. He didn’t know how long his life would be. None of us do.

Down the margin he wrote the numbers 1 to 10. Each one followed by a sort-of regret. Something he wished he would’ve done, but didn’t. Or hasn’t, yet. It took him half an hour of thinking, scribbling out, rewriting, and coming up with new ideas. He was going to complete it all. Ten days, he figured was long enough. Ten things in ten days. It sounded like an adventure. It was a long time since Harry ever decided to do anything adventurous.

By the time he was finished he noticed more movement around him. He glanced at his watch. Noon. This was the time most people left to the break room for lunch. Today, he decided that he would join them.

He folded up The Fuck-It List into a small rectangle and stuck it in his pocket. Then he scooped the brown paper bag off his desk and crossed the office towards the break room.

Harry’s coworkers greeted him with friendly hellos. Some asked where he was that morning, but he told them it was only a family emergency. He didn’t feel like going into the details. It would just become gossip.

Harry sat at a plastic white table across from Niall. He still wasn’t sure what to think of the guy, but he was the closest thing he had to a friend around here. On the table he had a cup of coffee and an open burger wrapper from a take away restaurant. Harry still had his same apple and turkey sandwich. Not everything could change in one day.

“Hey man, I didn’t see you this morning. How’s it going?” He asked excitedly. Harry wasn’t exactly sure what was so exciting about the question.

“I’m alright, you?”

“Great! I’ve been meaning to ask you, are you coming for drinks tonight? At least for happy hour, come on.”

Harry thought it over for a moment. Normally he’d decline the offer right away, but this time he really thought about it. But really, there wasn’t a lot of thinking necessary.

“Sure,” he decided, then smiled. “Why not?”

 

Today was not normal. That much, Harry had gathered so far. It was actually quite far from normal. The dial on the meter of “normalness” had just snapped to the other direction. As the day progressed, he thought it might be stuck there.

As it turned out, drinks after work really meant _right_ after work. Only a few hours after the invite, Harry found himself sat in the passenger seat of Niall’s tiny sedan from the early 2000s. The interior was a slightly stained grey upholstery and his seat wouldn’t stay reclined further than a few inches back. On the centre console was still an old tape player and a later-installed radio and disc player that didn’t quite match anything else.

“You like Bowie?” Niall asked, turning the volume knob higher. Harry nodded because, really, who didn’t like David Bowie? In fact, he was quite the fan as a teenager. But Niall was too busy singing along to the words from the album he already had in the CD player to wait for a real answer.

“ _I watch the ripples change their size_

_But never leave the stream_

_Of warm impermanence and_

_So the days float through my eyes_

_But still the days seem the same…”_

His voice was quiet as he sang, opposed to belting the words like Harry was expecting. It was soft and melodic, blending nicely with the track. Harry knew the words too, but he decided to enjoy the song in silence. He probably knew every word from the Hunky Dory album, but this song, _Changes,_ held a special place in his heart.

Back when he was a teenager, not quite old enough to be driving, he had a friend that lived on a farm. On that farm was an old blue pickup truck. Most of the paint was rusted off and there were only two seats up front and then a box in the back. It ran, but no one was dumb enough to try and take in on a proper road. One night, however, that was exactly what Harry and his friend decided to do, for reasons only someone still in their rebellious adolescence could know. They got about ten minutes away on back country roads before the whole thing broke down. With no cell phones, nor a desire to walk back in the middle of the night, they decided to just sleep in the truck. And as they lay in the box, staring up at the stars and talking about God-knows-what, _Changes_ came on the radio. Their faces lit up because, to pubescent teenagers, that song _spoke_ to them. When it ended, they didn’t speak for a long time. He didn’t remember a whole lot of the details from that night, but he remembered the feeling of lying there and letting the words fuel his soul.

So perhaps, he thought as he felt the folded up piece of paper resting against his thigh, the timing of this song was a little _too_ convenient. At the same time, it also felt almost necessary.

They arrived outside of the pub and Niall got out first. He didn’t recognize any of the other cars around, but when they walked through the doors, it turned out that they were the last to arrive. Niall waved at the group of their coworkers that were sat at two tables pushed together, then signalled for Harry to follow him to the bar.

“What’s your usual drink, my friend?” he asked, voice so smooth it was more like a friendly drawl. This kind of place seemed like it would be his typical hang out spot. His relaxed composure yet excitable attitude fit right into the atmosphere.

“Rum and Coke, I guess.” He decided, figuring not every choice he made today had to be as daring as he was starting to feel. He also just really wanted a drink where he wouldn’t taste much of the actual alcohol.

“Alright, a rum and Coke for him, and I’ll get my usual,” Niall turned to the bartender, who was happy to oblige. “Thanks, mate.”

When the drinks were placed in the bar in front of them, the mixed drink and a pint of beer, Niall left money on the counter and handed Harry’s drink right to him.

“This one’s on me. Since it’s your first time coming out with us, and all.” Niall grinned. He clinked his glass against Harry’s, then led the way back to the table where Sharon was laughing far too loudly over the other six of them. Harry pulled out the chair for the seat in the far corner while Niall sat proudly at the head of the table. Fitting, Harry supposed.

Something Harry didn’t know, or at least, didn’t remember from his teenage years, was that your body had to build a tolerance to alcohol. Which meant that if you didn’t drink often, it was much easier to get drunk. The last drink Harry had before tonight was probably a glass of wine at Christmas dinner with his family, and now it was July. So when Niall ordered him his third rum and Coke, you could say Harry was starting to feel a little loose. And when he was feeling loose, he didn’t exactly know when to stop.

Now, this was a Tuesday night. Most weeks, Tuesdays were when Harry would try to go for a run after work, then stop at a market to get his shopping for the week. No list was necessary since he bought the same items every time. At this point, he had it memorized.

But this Tuesday found Harry drunk and laughing in a bar with his coworkers. Coworkers that would surely be sharing in a collective hangover around the office tomorrow. When everything was getting a little hazy, Niall asked if he’d want to check out a club down the street. Again, it was a Tuesday, which didn’t seem like the ideal night for clubbing, but Harry must’ve said yes because the next morning he woke up with a stabbing pain in his head and three neon coloured stamps on his hand.

Harry couldn’t remember the events of last night in crystal clear detail, but he remembered the gist of it. They stayed for happy hour much later than intended, which turned into a dinner of greasy bar food and another two rounds of cocktails. Then Niall brought up the clubs and invited Sharon to go with them, then they were piling in a taxi, and then there were strobe lights and lasers and pulsating music. None of this was something Harry would ever decide to do, especially not sober. But here he was, Wednesday morning, waking up in the same clothes as the night before, with a hangover. At least he woke up alone and in his own bed. Otherwise that would create a whole new problem.

One problem that did arise, however, was the fact that Harry never got the chance to set an alarm the night before. When he checked his phone on the night stand, somehow still over fifty percent even though he didn’t bother to plug it in, the time read 11AM. He was officially late for work. Like, beyond late. So much so that his boss called and left a voice mail to find out where he was. That had never happened before. He was too scared to check the message.

Instead, Harry walked lazily into the bathroom to dispel the rest of last night’s drinks from his bladder. As he stood there, eyes still heavy and wishing he was able to just crawl back into bed and pass out, a thought crossed his mind. Well, more like a memory. He did up his fly and quickly washed his hands before looking at his reflection in his mirror. The eye bags and remnants of alcohol flush on his skin were not a good look. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. It was all wrinkled now, but still completely legible. He unfolded it to its full size and looked at the title again. The Fuck-It List. Wow, how crazy must have he been feeling yesterday to create this? And why was he still just as excited re-reading each of the points now as he was when he first wrote them?

“Number one,” he said out loud to himself, glancing between the page and his own reflection. “Quit my job.” He looked at his appearance once more, then scoffed. “Not like I’ll even get the chance before they fire me for showing up like this.”

Folding the paper up again, Harry stuck it back in his pocket. The idea was to complete all ten items in ten days. If he quit his job today, that meant he was starting his own new-and-improved version of The Game of Life.

Quitting one’s job is a pretty big decision to make, especially when one doesn’t have another lined up to replace it. But Harry had savings. Enough that would cover the intended adventures of the next few days, as well as the next few months of bills and groceries. Not that he was planning on being unemployed for that long, but just in case.

See, a couple of years ago, as Harry was just rounding out his twentieth year, he came into quite a significant amount of money. He never wanted this boring office job. He had dreams, and came so close to achieving them that he was practically holding them in the palm of his hands, but one little bump in the road had caused him to give it all up. The money was still his to keep, so he stuck it all in the bank and hardly touched it until a time came that he really needed it. And now was that time.

Instead of putting on his usual work suit, Harry reached down to the bottom drawer of his closet and found the pair of grey joggers that he usually changed into when he got home after a long day. Then he tore a baggy black t-shirt off its hanger and let it hang loose over his shoulders. He didn’t check to see what he looked like in the mirror as he passed by it. Comfort was the only thing he cared about.

Walking out the door, Harry didn’t care about his normal breakfast or tea, either, or even what time it was. Normally he’d wear a watch on his left wrist to help keep to his usual schedule, but today it remained on his night table, not being touched.

He hailed a taxi instead of taking the tube into work. It was quicker, for one – not that speed was exactly his greatest concern – but he also didn’t feel the most comfortable taking the tube again. He did almost die in it yesterday, after all.

On the drive there, as he sat in the backseat looking out at the streets of London, Harry decided maybe now was a good time to check all those messages he’d been ignoring on his phone. He still stayed clear of that voicemail, but the first text he clicked on was from Niall talking about last night and asking how he was feeling this morning, then another about two hours later wondering where he was. To be honest, Harry didn’t even know he had Niall’s number saved into his phone.

The next was from his mum, which was also surprising since she usually called rather than sent a text. She was letting him know that, if he wanted to, he could bring a guest with him to Sunday dinner. That was her way of asking him if he was seeing anyone, which he hadn’t been. Not for over a year, now. After his last relationship, the interest was lost on him all together.

In his messages app, the last text confused him for a moment, mostly because the sender’s name was saved in his phone as Tube Man, but then he remembered the man who both saved his life, and almost killed him. The man whose name he still did not know.

The message was from last night, not this morning like the others. When Harry clicked on it, he realized they’d had a whole conversation while he was completely sloshed. But he had to say, he was impressed with himself for not making and spelling mistakes big enough to give away his state of mind at that time. He went over the texts again to refresh himself.

 _Hey Tube Man_ – Okay, so maybe Harry hadn’t got off to the best start.

_Ah, this must be Harry?_

_Yes, and you’re the boy from the tube that almost killed me._

_Sorry about that. Again._

_You said you wanted to meet for coffee?_

_I did. Does tomorrow work for you? Around noon?_

_Sounds great!_

_What are you doing up this late, anyway?_

The last one was the message that Harry left unread. He briefly remembered having this conversation from a stall in the club toilets. The music was getting so loud and he was feeling a little woozy, so taking a break in the toilets seemed like the best idea. That was until a couple seemingly wanted some privacy of their own in the stall next to him. He got out of there real quick once he noticed the two pairs of feet.

Something about this man from the tube still seemed awfully familiar, if not just intriguing. The guy did practically save everyone on that train after all. Maybe not their lives, but at least from the guy who selfishly scared them and tried to steal their money. What harm could going for one coffee do?

Arriving at his work building, Harry took his time making it to his floor. Instead of the stairs, he opted for the lift for once. Another young man and a middle-aged woman were already in it when he stepped on. He smiled at them both, who offered the same in return, but he could feel their strange glares on him as they rode up to their respective floors. They were probably wondering what exactly he was doing wearing joggers in their business-casual environment.

“Styles!” Was the first thing Harry heard shouted at him as he entered the floor of his office. “Where the hell have you been?”

His boss was shouting over rows of desks and cubicles, everyone he worked with turning to stare at him. For some reason, Harry remained unbothered.

“Slept in. Had a bit too much fun last night, I guess.”

Harry met eyes with Niall, who smirked as he leaned back in his chair and clicked a pen in his fist. No one else even cracked a smile. Especially not his boss.

“Is that so?” His boss was walking closer to him now so he wouldn’t have to shout.

“Yeah, you know. I figured I’d end my last day working here with a bit of a celebration.”

“I’m not firing you,” he said coldly. “At least, not yet.”

“Oh, no, not because of that. I quit,” Harry grinned, then walked past him towards his own desk.

“What do you mean, you quit?” His boss bellowed.

“I no longer wish to work here. Just give me a second to grab my things then I’m out of here.”

He grabbed the empty box meant for recycling paper from under his desk and began tossing the few supplies he bought himself, the framed photo of him with his mum and sister on vacation, and the tiny plant that he always forgot to water, despite having to look at it every day.

Without another audible word, his boss walked away grumbling. As Harry made his own way towards the exit, he made sure to stop at Niall’s desk.

“Keep in touch, man,” he said to Niall. “Let me know when you want to go for drinks again sometime.”

“Will do,” Niall gave him a thumbs up, then added, “Glad you’re able to get out of here. Good luck with your list!”

Harry smiled, but he froze as soon as the words registered. How exactly would Niall know about that? As far as he knew, the list was still his own secret.

“My list?” he asked innocently.

“Yeah, that bucket list. You told Sharon and me about it last night.”

“Actually it’s called the – never mind,” Harry stopped himself. “Thanks. I’ll see you around, Niall.”

He sent him a wave, then another to Sharon and the rest of his coworkers he probably bonded with yesterday but had faint, if any, memories of. Chances were, he probably wasn’t going to see most of them again, anyway.

For now, he had a coffee meetup to get to.

Back in the lift, Harry placed his box as his feet, taking a pen from the holder that spilled inside. Then he pulled the list out of his pocket and looked at number one, scribbled it out proudly with red ink, then tucked both items away neatly.

_~~1\. Quit my job.~~ _


	3. 2. Make a movie.

_Where do you want to meet?_ Harry typed out on his phone. He decided to ditch the box of office supplies in the lobby, only taking with him the family photo that he removed from its frame and stuck in his pocket. None of the other stuff he really needed or wanted anymore. Now, he was walking alone on the street as the sun beamed down on him, feeling the most free he’d felt since he finished secondary school, but back then he still didn’t even know what freedom was.

The man replied with the suggestion of a Starbucks that was only a few blocks over. It was already ten to noon now, so Harry would make it just in time on foot.

There still wasn’t much Harry knew about this man. He hadn’t even had the chance yet to ask his real name. What he did know were three things: he seemed to enjoy Rolling Stone magazine, he was definitely braver than the average person, and he had the most piercing blue eyes Harry had ever seen. Other than that, the man was a complete mystery.

The bells above the door jingled as Harry walked in and one of the baristas greeted him with a friendly smile. He did the same in return, then picked a table off to the side to wait since the Tube Man was nowhere in sight. For a few minutes he tried to be patient, tapping lightly on the tabletop and checking his phone periodically, then he finally noticed the familiar face walk in the doors.

Harry sat up a bit straighter and smiled at the boy, who grinned widely back upon notice. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of the same denim jacket that Harry saw him in when they first met. A slight bounce was in his step as he made his way over the table.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he said as he pulled his chair out and sat down across from Harry.

“Quite great actually, yourself?”

“Good, good…” he trailed off. “Let’s get a drink, shall we? My treat.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“I’m the one who invited you out. It’s the least I can do. Are you a tea or coffee man?”

“Um,” Harry thought about it for a moment, realizing he probably hadn’t been to a Starbucks in years. He had no idea what he would like, but luckily the summer menu was up on the chalkboard with bold featured drinks. “I like iced coffee,” he decided, looking at one of the pictures that resembled that.

“Iced coffee, coming up,” the boy said as he walked up to the counter. Harry watched the interaction, but the purchase didn’t take long at all and soon he was already back at the table and sitting down.

“So, um…” Harry began awkwardly, not really sure where his sentence was going. He felt almost like he was on a blind first date.

Harry couldn’t help himself from examining the man in front of him. Across one shoulder of his denim jacket, he noticed a patch there that had the tongue-stuck-out logo for The Rolling Stones, then a bit lower was the one for Green Day. All over his jacket were patches, more that had to do with music than not.

“Those patches are interesting. You must really be into music,” Harry decided to comment, pointing vaguely to his jacket.

“Oh, yeah, you like em’?” he smoothed the fabric out to show them off better. “I’m a musician. Well, I wanted to be. It’s a passion, I guess. The patches aren’t just music though, they’re all different things. Some people like to get tattoos with meanings behind them – I mean, I have those too - but I like to cover this old jacket in patches.”

“What do they mean?”

“Which one do you want to know about?”

Harry examined them with a finger tapping against his chin. There sure were a lot, and this was only on the front side. On his shoulder was a sun with a smiley face in it, a cartoon pineapple was sewn onto one of the front pockets, and on the left side of his chest, one that Harry thought stuck out the most, was a rainbow flag. But Harry had a different idea of what to ask.

“The feather on your collar,” he finally said.

The boy smiled like he knew Harry was going to ask about that one, even though there was no way he could have any idea. “I got that one when I first left home and moved to London. Leaving the nest, you could say. Well, it was more like running away, but I think that’s a story for later.”

“Two iced coffees for Russell!” The barista announced over the sounds of the machines and quiet muttering.

“I’ll be right back,” the boy said, pushing his chair back. He took the two drinks from the counter and grabbed straws from side, balancing them on the lids.

“So that’s your name, then?” Harry asked as the boy placed his drink in front of him. “Russell?”

“Oh, no,” the boy laughed, which did nothing but confuse Harry. “I use the name Russell for orders, hotel rooms, signing up for something online, anything like that. My real name is Louis.”

“Louis,” Harry repeated, liking the way the name sounded. Much more than Russell, at least. “Why the fake name, then?”

“I don’t really know. I guess it’s just more comfortable giving someone who’s a complete stranger a fake name. It kind of saves you from never being found if you don’t want to be.”

“Why did you pick the name Russell?” Harry asked, taking a sip of his drink. It tasted quite sweet, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

“After Russell Hammond from that movie _Almost Famous_. I quite liked the film as a kid and I guess the name just sort of stuck out for me,” Louis shrugged.

“It was a good film,” Harry agreed.

Another moment of silence passed as they sipped their drinks before Louis asked, “So how long before you have to be back at work? Or are you not on your lunch break?”

“No, actually, I just quit this morning.” Harry wasn’t sure why he was telling Louis this, especially since he was still basically a stranger, but he just felt like someone you could easily confide in.

“Just like that? On the spot?”

Harry nodded.

“Why did you decide to do that?”

The easy answer would be to just say that he had enough of his job, his boss was an asshole, or he was ready to find work elsewhere, which were all true statements, but that wasn’t the whole reason. And dammit if Harry wasn’t itching to tell someone the whole reason. At least he’d remember it this time.

“You know how people make bucket lists?”

“Yeah…” Louis answered slowly like he was preparing himself to hear some awful news. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

“I decided to make something like that, only it’s not for dying. It’s actually more for living, I suppose.” He pulled the list out of his pocket, which was still yet to leave his side since he made it, then placed it on the table for Louis to see. He reached for the piece of paper, looking for Harry’s nod of approval before opening it up.

“The Fuck-It List,” Louis read out loud, breathing a laugh at the title.

“Ten things I wish I would’ve done if I were to die tomorrow. I’m trying to finish it in the next ten days.”

“I see you already have the first one crossed off. Some of these are big items, you really think you can do it all?” Louis raised an eyebrow, still skimming through them all.

“Maybe. I, at least, want to try.”

“What about next one then; make a movie? How are you going to do that in ten days?”

“I thought I might record myself finishing the list, kind of like a documentary. Doesn’t matter if anything becomes of it, I just want it to be a movie for me.”

“Where’s your camera, then? Shouldn’t you be recording everything?” He folded the list up and handed it back over to Harry.

“I haven’t bought one yet.”

“What are you waiting for? Come on, I’ll help you pick one out.” Louis was already standing up, catching Harry completely off guard who was not ready for the change of pace. He scrambled to follow Louis towards the door, picking his drink up to bring with him and returning the list where it belonged.

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,” Harry said as they walked out of the building. Louis stepped out of the way on the other side to hold the door open for two girls who thanked him as they were going in.

“But I do want to,” he chirped. “There’s a shop just down a few blocks we can check out, I’m sure we’ll find you something.”

“Alright, well, thanks,” Harry smiled as they began their walk.

Louis’ hand that wasn’t holding his drink returned to his jacket pocket, while Harry’s found its way to the one in his joggers. Of course _now_ would have to be the time he remembered he decided to dress down for the day. He couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed, but at least Louis seemed to either not notice or not care.

“So what do you do, exactly?” Louis asked, looking between Harry and the pavement ahead of them.

“Nothing overly remarkable.”

“I meant for a living, not in general.”

“So did I.”

“Ah. Well,” Louis smirked, “coulda’ had me fooled.”

“I work in a small office. I make sales over the phone. Well, used to, I guess,” shrugged Harry.

“Oh, like _The Office_?”

Harry looked puzzled. “Which office?”

Louis laughed at the question, but he sucked his cheeks in to hide it. “I think I’ve learned more from the way you answered my questions than I have from the answers you actually gave.”

“When do I get to start asking questions?” Harry asked, taking in an exasperated breath.

“Now. Go.”

“Okay, what do you do?”

“See, that’s just copying. Pick a new question, then we’ll go back and forth,” explained Louis. He kicked a loose pebble on the ground and tried to keep it going for the next few steps while avoiding passersby.

“Fine, how old are you? Because, honestly, I can’t tell if you’re about sixteen or thirty-six,” Harry admitted.

“Sixteen, eh?” Louis raised an eyebrow.

“Please tell me you aren’t sixteen.”

“Not for about nine years, no.”

“Twenty-five?”

“Ding ding ding!”

“Yeah? Huh, I thought you might be younger than me. I’m twenty-three.”

“Hold on, I didn’t ask my question yet,” he raised his pointer finger. “But twenty-three? What are you doing having a mid-life crisis at twenty-three? That’s more like a quarter-life crisis.” Louis lost the pebble he has kicking as it bounced into the street.

“I think the crisis is more about my realization that I’ll never know what part of my life is the middle. Maybe I’m only going to live to be forty-six.”

Louis looked up at him, a crease between his eyes. “That’s a bit morbid, innit?”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Have you always been like this?”

“Like what?”

“Brooding.”

“Is that your question?”

“I guess it is now.”

“No,” Harry sighed, “I don’t think I have. Just in the last couple of years, I guess.”

“What changed in the last couple of years?”

“Hey, I thought it was my turn.”

“Okay, you’re right. Go ahead.”

Letting the silence linger for a moment, Harry tried to come up with his next question. “What kind of kid were you in school?” he finally settled on. “Like were you on sports teams, in clubs, spent all your free time in the art room…?”

“Actually, I was a band kid,” he said with an amused grin. “Played piano and guitar in the jazz band for four years.”

“Ah, so you really are a musician, then?”

“I am, yeah.”

Right then was when the realization hit him. He knew, now, why Louis had looked so familiar to him, right from when Harry first saw him.

“Is your last name Tomlinson?”

Louis furrowed his eyebrows together, stopping for a moment in his tracks, “Yeah, how did you kn-”

“We went to school together. You were two years ahead of me.” Then he pointed at himself, “Styles is my last name, if that jogs your memory. You might’ve known my sister.”

“Wait, I do think I remember you. You peed on my foot.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you were in year nine and I was in year eleven. I said hi to you in the toilets, which was admittedly a weird thing to do, but then you turned and it splashed on my foot.”

“I- um…”

The thing was, Harry did remember this. Far too clearly, actually. He didn’t ever remember who the person was, he was too embarrassed to actually look at them in the eyes, but the event stuck out in his mind as one of his most embarrassing feats. He remembered the boy – Louis – looking taken aback as he flinched away, then himself shouting “Oops! Sorry!” like it was an innocent mistake. He then quickly zipped up his trousers and made a beeline for the door. He didn’t even have time to wash his hands, which was kind of gross, but so was accidentally peeing on someone, so he just needed to get the hell out of there.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the only time we had ever interacted in school,” Louis laughed. “But hey, I followed up our second meeting with accidentally aiming a gun at you, so who here _really_ made the worst impression?”

Now Harry was laughing too, and the shop they were walking to was right in front of them. Louis pointed it out on Harry’s side, then Harry pulled to door open for Louis to walk through first.

“Hello,” the shopkeeper greeted through the empty store. She was at the back wall fixing a display on a ladder, but quickly made her way down. “What can I do for you, today?”

The shop was small and the outside walls were lined with glass counters like a jewelry store. Some cameras they had looked large enough to have to sit on your shoulder, and others were only small digital cameras that hadn’t been popular since the early 2000s. Louis walked confidently up to the woman who was standing on the other side of the counter.

“We’re looking for a camera that would be good for filming a documentary,” Louis told her as Harry appeared at his side.

“Something small enough that it would be easy to travel with,” Harry added, remembering the other items on his list. “And nothing too complicated. I don’t exactly know what I’m doing.”

“I think I have just da thing,” the woman spoke in her thick German accent as she moved across the store. She looked much older and wore a long floral skirt that flowed behind her as she walked. Her long grey hair hung flat over her shoulders

Harry and Louis followed to the other end of the shop and stopped where she was opening the glass case, resting their arms on the counter. She pulled out a black DSLR camera and placed it delicately in front of them for the boys to look at. “It’s one of da most popular for beginner filmmakers,” she began. “If you know how to use digital camera, den you’ll be able to figure dis out no problem. It’s much better dan a camcorder, trust me. It comes with a tripod, external microphone, SD cards, lenses, a case, everything you need.”

“That does sound like a good deal, but how much is it?” Louis asked first. She pointed to the price just below them. Louis sucked the air between his teeth and glanced at Harry with wide eyes.

“And all that stuff you said is included in the price?” Harry said as he picked up the camera to get a better look at it. The woman had already turned it on, so he peered an eye through the viewfinder.

“It does,” she assured with a grin, “And for you, I take ten percent off.”

Harry turned to Louis and snapped a photo right before he stuck his hand in front of his face and whined “Hey!” He smirked while looking down at the camera to check the results. Louis was looking right into the lens with a curious smile, completely oblivious to what Harry was actually doing. To get a look for himself, Louis peered around Harry’s shoulder.

“It does take quite nice photos. Can I see it?”

Harry obliged by removing the strap from his neck and giving it to Louis. He turned the camera immediately to face him and hit record.

“Is there an internal microphone on this thing?” he asked the shopkeeper, who nodded her response. “So what do you think, Harry? Is this the one?”

He zoomed in on Harry’s face, who was looking down at the counter, slightly embarrassed, but still smiling. “C’mon mate. If you want to make a movie you have to get used to being in front of the camera.”

In response, Harry raised his eyebrows and flashed a toothy grin, which only made Louis laugh.

“The zoom on this is pretty smooth,” Louis said again, pressing the switch back and forth and watching Harry’s face get bigger and smaller.

“Having fun?” Harry deadpanned.

“Welcome to day two of The Fuck-It List!” Louis said in his best announcer voice. Trying not to laugh, Harry put up a hand to cover the lens.

“Alright, I think I’ll get it,” Harry turned to the shopkeeper to say, prompting Louis to hit the stop button and put the camera back down.

“Perfect, I box everything up for you, then ring you up at the register over dere,” she said, pointing towards the counter she initially greeted them from.

“Thank you,” Harry said, before walking away and leaving Louis to browse aimlessly.

Exiting the store, the pair began walking back towards the Starbucks they came from by default. Harry had only finally just finished his drink and stepped towards a bin on the side of the road to throw the empty cup away. In his hand he held the large plastic bag with the actual camera and the small accessories, while Louis carried the tripod and travel bag it came with.

“So, um, do you have anything else going on today?” Harry asked passively.

Louis shrugged and pouted out his bottom lip. “Not really, no.”

“If you want, I could use a hand setting all this up at home. Unless that’s weird to invite you over after only knowing you about an hour.”

“Technically, it’s been over twenty-four hours if you count yesterday,” Louis corrected. “Years, if you count school. But no, it’s not weird. I’d love to help.”

They took a taxi back to Harry’s apartment, Harry deciding himself that it was the best way to get there. After unlocking the door, Harry stepped out of the way so Louis could enter, then dropped his keys in the dish next to it. Good thing he was never one to leave his place messy because he wouldn’t’ve had the chance to clean up beforehand otherwise.

“Not to get too personal, but how exactly does a twenty-three-year-old working an office job afford to live alone in London? I mean, not that this is a luxury flat, but it’s not a piece of shit, either.”

Harry shrugged, “Savings. Do you want anything to eat or drink?”

“Nah, I’m alright. I’m more interested in this camera,” said Louis, digging into the bag that Harry rested on the breakfast bar. Harry stepped back to take a glass out of the cupboard and ran it under the cold water tap for himself.

“Do you know anything about filming or cameras?” Harry asked after chugging half the glass. He had a hip rested against the counter.

“Kind of. I took a media class in secondary school. I just wanted to learn about sound editing, but it was for all types of digital recording. We did a few short film projects. I probably remember some of it.”

“Do you want to be my camera man, then? To like, film everything?” Harry suggested, taking another long drink from his glass as he kept looking at Louis.

Louis glanced over the camera that he was holding up. He already had the record button pressed, but was only filming pointlessly.

“You want me to follow you around with the camera while you do crazy stuff on that list?”

“If you want to, yeah. It would be kind of hard to film myself.”

Louis thought about it for a moment, playing with the zoom on the lens. “What’s the next item on your list?”

“Take a random flight anywhere,” Harry said, already having it memorized.

“I can’t afford to fly anywhere.”

“I didn’t ask you to do it for free. I’d pay for the trip. Unless you can’t take time off work or anything, then I completely understand.”

“No, that’s not a problem,” Louis shook his head. “Alright, then. I suppose I’m up for the adventure. I better get my name in the credits, at least.”

“I still don’t even know what I’m doing with the footage, but you will if anything comes of it.”

He made it obvious now that he was recording Harry as he made sure his face was framed perfectly in shot. “So, Harry, where are we off to, then? Thailand? Argentina? Jamaica?”

“I thought maybe we could just decide when we get there. See where the next flight is headed.”

“Ah, spontaneity. I like it. When are we leaving?”

“I have to go to my mum’s for dinner tomorrow, so how about right after?”

“What, you want to leave at night?”

“Why not? We’ll be wasting less time. Ten items in ten days, remember? Plus, we can just sleep on the plane.”

He thought about it for a second before finally agreeing with a shrug. “I mean, sure, I guess. What’s the dinner for?”

“Just to catch up and all that. She keeps asking me when I’m going to bring someone home, so I assume it’s to grill me about my choices. With love, of course.”

“Have you never been with someone long enough to bring them home?” Louis asked, and Harry was suddenly very aware of the camera on him before he answered the question. In his mind, he was kicking himself for being too quick to overshare.

“No, I have. Just not in a while. That’s why she keeps nagging, I think,” Harry brushed off the comment with a laugh. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with the prying question, but didn’t want to come off as rude by refusing to answer all together.

“My mum’s the same way, only I’ve never brought anyone home. Relationships just aren’t my thing,” Louis shrugged.

“Why not?”

“They pin you down to one place and one person. It takes away part of your freedom, or at least that’s how I see it. I don’t want to have to please another person or be cautious of what I say. Not to say I’ve never dated, but I’ve never been anyone’s _boyfriend_ or anything.”

At least Harry wasn’t the only one oversharing.

“That’s a great roundabout way of saying you have commitment issues.”

Louis breathed a laugh, “I guess you could say that, yeah. Hey, maybe you should bring me along to your dinner. Pretend that I’m the boyfriend so she quits the nagging,” he joked.

“I’m paying you to be my camera man, not my escort,” Harry retorted, laughing as well.

“I’m a man of many talents,” Louis declared. He realized he was still recording all of this and hit the stop button again. That probably wasn’t exactly the type of footage Harry was looking for for his documentary. “So should we figure out how to work this thing, or what?” he asked, holding up the instruction manual.

“Right, let’s do it,” Harry said, putting his cup down and joining Louis at the stools.

They agreed to meet late the next night at Harry’s house. He made Louis promise not to lookup flights online so neither of them would have any idea where they would be going. The next day Harry spent packing and making sure everything was lined up with his credit cards. As spontaneous as he was trying to be, he couldn’t get rid of the practical side of him just with a snap of the fingers.

Thursday evening he showed up at his mum’s house alone, just like he planned to all along. If his mum was disappointed, she did her best not to show it. But she had her new husband, and his sister brought her boyfriend, so Harry couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. He was normally the one to show up without a significant other on his arm, but things change. That’s both the beauty and tragedy of life. It’s never known to be fair.

Dinner was served and Harry sat next to his sister, who was notorious for her jokes at his expense. It was all in fun and Harry knew she meant it with love, especially since he was usually quick with a comeback, but for some reason the added feeling of loneliness was increasing the sting. That was until he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He tried to be subtle as he could as he pulled it out. His mum had a strict rule against phones at the table ever since they were teenagers, and even though they were now both adults, it wasn’t going away any time soon.

 _Packing right now. Do you think I should go with more shorts or jeans? We better not be heading to Antarctica._ Above it was another message that read, _Can’t wait for tonight!_

Harry still hadn’t changed Louis’ name in his contacts from Tube Man.

_Me too! And I’d say a good mixture of both. You never know where we’ll end up._

“What’s so interesting in your lap that’s making you grin like that?” His sister asked with a mischievous smirk.

“Oh, nothing,” Harry said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. He wrinkled his nose up to try and get rid of the smile. “Nothing at all.”

~~2\. Make a movie.~~


	4. 3. Take a random flight anywhere.

The knock on Harry’s door sounded just a few minutes past nine o’clock that night. He had to let Louis in through the call box at the front door, so he was expecting the arrival only moments later when he swung the door open.

Louis stood on the other side of the entryway with small bags under his eyes and a beanie covering his hair. He still wore his same denim jacket, but this time over a t-shirt and joggers. They seemed to be on the same page outfit-wise. Not very many people opted to dress up for the airport. Louis also had a backpack swung over his shoulder and a rolling suitcase at his side.

“Hey,” he said over a yawn, not stepping any further into the apartment than over the threshold. “Sorry, I just got back from a long shift at work. How was your dinner?”

“Better than expected,” Harry replied, tone slightly more cheery than Louis’.

“Were you grilled for questions about your personal life?”

“Oh yeah, but that wasn’t a surprise. That’s what family’s for, right?”

“I guess,” Louis yawned again and covered his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m more excited than I look, I swear. I just need a little caffeine, I’m thinking.”

“We’ll get coffee when we get there,” assured Harry.

Louis still stood in the entryway, the door not even latched behind him. “You ready to go?”

“Yes!” he said excitedly, picking up his own suitcase and carry-on from next to the door. Following Louis back into the hallway, Harry closed the door behind them and locked it, checking the handle just to make sure. Everything else had already been triple checked before Louis even got there. “Let’s go!” he declared excitedly.

A taxi Harry had called was already waiting for them downstairs. The driver helped them fit all their bags into the trunk, then the two of them got into the backseat of the car.

On the way to the airport Louis looked like he was about to fall asleep with his head rested against the window, only the palm of his hand separating his cheek from the cold glass. Looking out his own window, Harry wasn’t sure yet that he had fully processed what he was doing. Just three days ago he was sitting in his office, making sales and filling out paperwork, and now he was sitting in the back of a car with a practical stranger who he was about to travel to God-knows-where with. But the thing was, he loved every part of the concept of it. The spontaneity, the recklessness, the fear, the mystery. He was going into this adventure completely blind to how it would turn out. They both were. That was the thrill of it.

After collecting their bags and walking through the sliding doors into the main lobby, Harry turned to Louis before they proceeded any further.

“You pick,” he said confidently.

“What?”

“Where we go, you can pick.”

“But this is your list. Shouldn’t you decide where we go?” insisted Louis. They stepped aside near a wall to get out of the way of other people.

“The item says to take a random flight anywhere. If I have a say, doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose?”

“Can you at least give me a continent or something to go off of?”

“Anywhere you want. Preferably something that’s leaving in the next two hours or so.”

Louis glanced up at the board above the front desks that had the flight schedule. Paris, Vancouver, Mexico, Atlanta, Singapore, and the list kept going on. The first few were boarding, a couple said delayed, but most just read that the gate was open. He scanned the names of cities, states, and countries until his eyes landed on one that he’d always wanted to visit. And it was departing in an hour and a half.

“San Francisco,” Louis announced, looking back to Harry for approval.

“San Francisco,” Harry repeated, a smile inching onto his face. “That sounds perfect.”

They queued up for the front desk, feeling a little more anxious than they did before, but mostly excited. Harry hadn’t even been to the US before, never mind California, but he’d seen plenty of movies. America seemed like such a vast and strange place. He wondered if they’d get a chance to visit Los Angeles. He was guilty, himself, of falling for the romanticized idea of “La La Land.” And that wasn’t just because the movie by the same name made him feel some type of way. But that was also true. He was a sucker for romances, and musicals.

Once they reached the front, Harry walked up to the woman at the desk with a smile. He asked if any seats were available on the next flight to San Francisco and she told them they were in luck because there were a number of single seats left. Nothing directly beside each other, but she could get them in the same row with one window seat and one aisle seat. Pulling out his credit card, Harry told her they’d take them.

An hour later they were already through security and sat at another Starbucks table near their gate. Funny how almost 24 hours ago they were in this same position, only Harry didn’t even know Louis’ name yet, and he definitely didn’t think he’d be travelling to the other side of the world with the guy. But here he was, yet to regret anything.

Louis volunteered, once again, to wait for the two iced coffees they ordered, this time standing near the counter until they were ready. He still had the camera around his neck for the airport footage he wanted to get. Harry had no idea of any of it was turning out well, but he didn’t care so much as long as it was documented. For him, it was about the story more than anything.

With a cup in each hand and a bag of chocolate chip muffins hanging loosely between his fingers, Louis sat them down on the table before collapsing into the chair. He looked a lot more exhausted than he was willing to admit. Harry took the one closest to him and removed the straw wrapping that Louis ripped so it only covered the top. This drink tasted even better than the one last time. Mind you, he also didn’t bother making coffee for himself this morning at risk of messing anything up after his big clean last night. So this was just the caffeine boost he needed.

With the camera still in his hands, Louis held it around chest level with the screen pointed up so he could watch his framing. Harry still wasn’t so sure about the feeling of being filmed, but he was starting to like the idea of it. And who was to say he had to show anyone the final result, anyway?

“So, why did you want to travel to somewhere randomly?” Louis asked. Harry didn’t remember also giving him the job as director, but he supposed they never really had a clear conversation about Louis’ job requirements. They got about as far as knowing Louis would hold the camera and occasionally point it at Harry, while Harry paid for them to travel to across the globe. But he wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t like he could exactly interview himself.

“I dunno, really. I guess I just never got to do much travelling in my life.” Harry looked past Louis at the other passengers walking by. Some in a rush, some confused, most walking with a purpose. Like they knew exactly what they were doing and where they were going, as they should. “The whole point of this list is to be spontaneous and live without regrets, and this kind of feels like the epitome of that, doesn’t it?”

Louis nodded his agreement, but the viewer wouldn’t be able to see anyway. With his free hand, he pulled one of the muffins out of the paper bag and took a bite out of the top.

“So you’ve never been to America before?”

“No, have you?” Harry asked, and this interview quickly and easily turned into more of a conversation. He took the other muffin and begin picking out just the chocolate chips to eat.

“No, never even been on a plane before,” admitted Louis.

“Really? Why did you get a passport, then?”

“Well,” Louis sighed deeply and pushed the muffin away, “long-story-short I got this gig that was supposed to be working for a tour across Europe and North America. I made it for a few weeks, but then there were some complications and I had to leave the tour.”

“A tour? What, like you were in a band?”

“Nah, I was a roadie. For a little while over a summer, anyway,” Louis propped his feet up on the chair diagonal from him. “Until they found out I was seventeen. I guess having minors working in such a physically demanding job is quite the insurance risk, so they had to let me go. To be fair, I did lie and say I was eighteen.”

“How did you even get that job so young?” Harry didn’t bother hiding his awe at the story unravelling. He leaned forward in his seat and rested his crossed arms on the table.

“My friend’s cousin knew a guy who said he could get us in. So we got ten-year passports thinking, ‘Hell, who knows what could happen?’ Then we just kind of… ran away… It was supposed to last three months, but we never even made it off the UK tour buses and onto the planes. He was underage as well, so after we got kicked off the tour we ended up just outside of London. We rented a shitty one bedroom flat to share and slept on mattresses on the floor while he worked at a petrol station and I worked at a Starbucks.”

“Ah, so you were a barista?” Harry observed, motioning back towards the counter. “Is that where the fake name idea came from?”

“Sort of, yeah. Sometimes, when I got bored, I’d spell the names on the cups as outrageously as I could think of. Challenged my creativity, and got a good laugh seeing the look on some people’s faces as they walked away with their drink.”

“I bet. So what happened after that?”

But his question was cut off by a loud voice over the speaker announcing the boarding of their gate number.

“I did say it was a long story. To be continued?” Louis suggested as they stood up. Harry agreed because he didn’t have much of another choice, then they proceeded towards their gate.

The seats they were given were on the right side with one of them being next to a window and the other next to the aisle. Since he had never been on a flight before, Harry offered Louis the window seat. He was hesitant to accept, thinking in his head that he was taking the superior seat away from Harry, but Harry really couldn’t care either way. Most of this flight he’d probably spend sleeping, anyway.

Well, that’s what he thought, until he saw who else they’d be sharing a row with.

A young man, probably no older than Harry, had is arms stretched up trying to get his bag into the overhead compartment right next to him. His shirt was raised slightly, making Harry divert his eyes from the sight of his midriff, but he noticed Louis peering over his in-flight magazine that he couldn’t possibly be actually paying attention to.

When he excused himself to get to his seat, Harry finally saw his face clearly. He had big hazel eyes and a toothy grin, but in a sort-of cute way. He wore ripped skinny jeans and a jumper, which would’ve made him look like a teenager is if wasn’t for the slight beard that was forming around his mouth. He smiled at them both as he sat down, but definitely smiled at Louis longer. He returned the greeting, still grinning as his eyes flicked back down to the magazine that’s pictures he was scanning.

During takeoff Harry’s eyes glanced towards Louis periodically to see if he was alright, but he seemed more fascinated than scared in any way. He stared out the window excitedly as they ascended into the sky and through the clouds, the city looking smaller and smaller below them. The camera was even gripped tightly in his hands so he could get footage of takeoff out the window. Harry was picturing how it could be used in some sort of montage over upbeat music.

Once the only sight to behold was the dark blue sky, Louis settled back into his seat. He opened the bag for the camera and slid it back in.

“Are you a photographer?” The boy that sat in the middle asked, taking Louis only slightly by surprise.

“Film student, actually,” Louis corrected, and Harry noted the boldface lie right away. He had his headphones in with the intention to drown out his surroundings, but he also kind of wanted to see how this conversation played out, so he didn’t put anything on just yet.

“Ah, so you’re in uni, then?”

Louis nodded.

“What year?”

“Third.” He could _probably_ pass for twenty-one, Harry supposed. “Are you in uni as well?”

“Going into my second year,” said the boy cheerily. “What are you heading off to San Francisco for?”

“Just for a little summer holiday. Have fun, meet new people, photograph a different country.”

Harry had to hand it to the guy, he was willing to take his lies pretty far, and make them convincing. If it wasn’t for the fact that he knew of him back in school, he might’ve started wondering if ‘Louis’ was even his real name.

“Same here,” the boy smiled. “Maybe we could grab a coffee or something when we land. Get to know each other a bit better.”

At first, Harry considered the offer to be quite bold. He could tell the tone in their conversation was flirtatious to begin with, but he, himself, would never think to just ask someone out like that. One wrong assumption could, unfortunately, get you punched out. Not that Harry ever had that experience himself, but he heard stories. The thing about Louis, however, is he pretty much wore his heart on his sleeve. Literally, there was a patch of one on the sleeve of his denim jacket. Just like that rainbow flag on his shoulder, which this boy must’ve noticed right away to be so straightforward.

“That sounds like it could be fun,” Louis smiled. Harry couldn’t tell if he was just trying to humour him or not.

“I’m Aaron, by the way,” the boy presented his hand for Louis to shake.

“Russell,” Louis said, and Harry had to scrunch up his nose to get rid of the knowing grin that was starting to spread. “You should probably meet Anthony, my boyfriend, as well.”

Harry’s head shot up because, although he was quite aware that Anthony was not his name, he was also very aware that both of the boys next to him were now staring at him.

“Nice to meet you,” Harry said quickly, realizing he’d have to react in a way that didn’t look so shocked.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize that you two-”

“No need to apologize, mate,” Louis grinned. As hard as he tried to solve the puzzle, Harry could not figure out what Louis’ endgame was here.

“You know, if you’d like, I could switch places with either of you so you could sit together,” Aaron offered kindly.

“You wouldn’t mind?” Louis’ eyes lit up. As well as a musician, Harry thought Louis might be on his way to a successful acting career as well

“Not at all.”

“Anthony would be happy to switch with you, I’m sure.”

Louis had to nod towards Harry to remind him that he, in fact, was the _Anthony_ that Louis was referring to.

“Oh, yes. Thank you very much,” Harry smiled as he unbuckled his seat belt. They both moved into the aisle, then Harry returned first to take up the spot in the middle seat. As he sat back down, he made sure to shoot Louis a look that said ‘Was that all really necessary?’ but Louis only kept the grin plastered on his face, giving his own thanks to Aaron as well.

Knowing he couldn’t flat out ask what that was all about with Aaron still sitting right there, Harry pulled out his phone and typed out that exact question.

_Tube Man_ (It should be noted that Harry was still yet to change Louis’ name in his phone) _: It’s an eleven hour flight. I thought it would be less boring if we sat together._

_Harry: He probably would’ve switched anyway if we just asked politely._

_Tube Man: But what’s the fun in that?_

Harry breathed a laugh at the answer, then remembered Louis was sitting next to him and could see his reaction. When they met eyes briefly, both with their phones in their hands, Louis was smirking at him. Harry began to wonder if that was just his resting face.

_Harry: Why the name Anthony?_

_Tube Man: First name that popped into my head. I think it suits you. You can change it if you want, but if not, then you need to pick a last name for yourself._

_Harry: Why? Do we need to use aliases in America?_

_Tube Man: Not exactly, but it sounds fun now that you mention it!_

_Harry: I’ll have to get back to you on that._

 

Before leaving, Harry wasn’t exactly sure what it would feel like being in the same enclosed space on an eleven hour direct flight, but it was starting to get uncomfortable really quick. After they were served their first meal, he tried his best to fall asleep against a neck pillow he bought from a shop in the airport. Next to him, Louis was making a playlist on his phone with his headphones stuck in his ears, and Aaron had been long asleep.

“I thought you’d be sleeping by now,” Harry mumbled, not wanting to wake Aaron up so they’d have some privacy.

“Hmm?” Louis raised his eyebrows and took out a headphone so he could hear him.

“You seemed so tired this morning, I thought you’d be asleep by now,” he repeated.

Louis lifted a corner of his mouth. “Coffee does wonders. I’ll probably crash in a couple of hours, though.”

“You never finished telling me your story about the roadie job,” Harry suddenly remembered. He removed the pillow from his neck, feeling a bit silly with it on, then double checked on Aaron to make sure he was still sleeping. Not that he really cared if he heard, but getting caught in a lie is never fun.

“Where did I leave off?”

“You moved to a shitty flat in London and became a barista,” Harry recited.

“Right,” Louis put down his phone and settled more into his seat to get comfortable. “Well that went on for about a year, then my friend turned eighteen and decided he wanted to go back home and work for his dad to make more money. He left me in that shitty apartment, but I was making enough to pay rent for a couple more months. Then I ran out of savings after a while and began couch surfing until I found another flatmate. A couple, actually, which made rent a whole lot cheaper.”

“What was his name?” Harry asked. He realized he was interrupting, but Louis didn’t seem to mind.

“My friend, or the new flatmate?”

“Friend.”

“Oh, uh, Elijah. But I called him Eli because he wouldn’t let anyone else, and he called me Tommo – after Tomlinson, you know. It was kind of lame, but we were friends since we were in year seven so it just stuck and never went away.”

“Do you still talk to him now?” Harry’s eyes were getting a bit droopy, but he was determined to hear the end of the story. Well, up to present day, at least.

Looking down at his hands, Louis shook his head a bit sadly. “No, we had a bit of a falling out before he moved. It was quite unfortunate, I’ll admit, but people move on. Anyway, I don’t know how I did it after that, but I conned my way into a radio job. It was just a small city station, but the job made more money than Starbucks, that was for sure. I was a producer, so I was in charge of organizing the daily rotation and making all those little jingles you hear for contests and introductions.”

“I would’ve thought you had to go to school for that,” Harry commented, trying to hold back a yawn. He had his head against the back rest and turned to face Louis.

“So did I, but I submitted an application with some samples of my work and they hired me right away. That lasted about three years with steady income until the station got bought out. The new boss found out I wasn’t exactly qualified even though I’d been there for so long, but he still kicked me out on my arse.” Louis rolled his eyes at the memory, making it clear the thought still stung a bit.

At that point Harry’s eyes were closed and Louis realized he was definitely dozing off. Taking the pillow off his lap, Louis delicately tried to wrap it back around Harry’s neck so he could sleep more comfortably. He stirred slightly when Louis tilted his head forward, but he was knocked out cold.

When Harry woke up again it was to be served their second meal. The tray was filled with a chicken wrap, a bag of crisps, salad, and tea, and Harry had it all gone within about ten minutes. He didn’t even realize how hungry he was until he took the first bite.

As soon as Louis was finished it was his turn to fall asleep, taking Harry up on the pillow he offered him. During this time, Harry decided he might as well get a start on the newest book his sister sent to him. He had to admit, she did have quite good taste.

By the time the third meal came, they were so close to landing that conversation was nothing but dull. They were getting anxious to be able to walk to somewhere other than the tiny airplane toilets for once. And this was San Francisco, dammit, so they were ready to have the time of their lives. Not that either of them had bothered to do research, and Harry didn’t know much of what was even there outside of what he saw in films, but they’d figure it out. After all, this whole trip kind of was about winging it.

Getting off the plane involved a lot of stretching and achy joints, but by the time they reached baggage claim and cleared customs was when the true excitement finally sank in. During the descent, the city didn’t even look real. Grids of neighbourhoods led up to the coastline of the city. The airport itself was right along the ocean. In his 23 years of life, Harry hadn’t seen the Pacific Ocean yet. Since he hadn’t even been on a plane before, he supposed Louis hadn’t either.

The only problem, they realized back when the captain announced their landing time, was that it was 3AM. The extent of their travel plans included the plane ride there, and that was about it. No hotels booked, no cars rented. At this point, it was the middle of the night and they were stranded in a country neither had ever been to.

“We could try to find a room somewhere,” Louis suggested as they stood next to the exit in the lobby. Harry was on his phone trying to google anywhere that might have an opening.

“But it looks like you can’t check-in until noon at the earliest.”

“Maybe the receptionist will take pity on us.”

Harry sighed and locked his phone, tucking it back into his pocket. “I suppose planning beforehand would’ve been the smarter idea in this case.”

“We could always sleep in a car park somewhere.” There was very little sincerity in Louis’ tone, but they were starting to run out of options anyway.

“With what car?”

“You’ve got a point there.”

Picking up his bag from where he rested it on the ground, Harry threw a strap over his shoulder and glanced out the door where a row of taxis were waiting. “Should we take our chances with a couple hotels around here?”

“Might as well,” agreed Louis, repeating Harry in his actions.

They sat in the back of the taxi as they drove along the main highway next to the airport. When they reached the point where hotels began to line the street, Harry paid the driver and they started to walk instead. By the time they tried the sixth one with no luck in sight, they were told the news they were dreading to hear.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this whole part of the city is booked up. You might find somewhere across town, but summer is big for, not only tourists, but conventions and concerts as well,” the woman at the desk said, looking genuinely apologetic. “If you want to give me your names, I can let you know if someone checks out early tomorrow.”

“That would be great, thank you,” Harry smiled as she placed a pen and paper on the counter in front of him.

As they exited the building, Louis threw his hands up in defeat. “This is ridiculous and I’m starving. There’s gotta be somewhere around here open 24 hours.”

“Actually,” Harry began, pointing to a sign across the street. The red letters seemed to glow like a halo over the yellow background.

“ _Denny’s_?” Louis raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, we could technically just hang out there until morning if we have to.”

“Not to be picky because I know you’re paying for all this, but I’m not sleeping in the booth of a greasy spoon.”

“We don’t have to sleep there, we’ll just waste a few hours. I put my name down at six hotels, one of them is bound to call at some point.”

As much as Louis disliked the idea of being bored in a Denny’s until the sun came out, it also wasn’t exactly a bad one. Besides, how many nights had he drunkenly stopped at a 24-hour diner back home with friends after a night out? Those nights created some of his favourite memories. At least, the ones he could remember.

“Can I get a milkshake?”

Harry returned the question with a confused stare. “A milkshake?”

“I really want a chocolate milkshake,” he said seriously.

“Mate, you can get whatever you want.”

“I’m getting a giant plate of pancakes with bacon, and a milkshake,” Louis affirmed, then began walking towards the crosswalk before Harry could say anything else.

The waitress let them seat themselves wherever they wanted in the small restaurant, so they picked a booth in the corner. The red leather was worn on the bottom of the seats, and the backs were beginning to tear at the seams, but they couldn’t find the energy to care. As predicted, the patrons there at the moment were mostly drunk young people, just coming back from bars and clubs and looking for greasy food.

Before even looking at the menu, Louis placed his order for a stack of three pancakes, hash browns and bacon on the side, and a chocolate milkshake with extra whipped cream. Harry just decided to get the same. From the stereotypes he heard, the meal did sound quite American.

Not until they were each halfway done their food did either even look up. Louis was slowly starting to realize that the rumour about how large the portions were in this country was very true, and his stomach was not quite equipped to hold it all.

After pushing his plate to the side, Louis pulled out the camera from his bag and set it up on the table, using the empty bag to prop it up and point at Harry’s face. “I think this experience is worth documenting,” he said. He already got a small amount of footage from their hotel search, but was too hungry to bother pulling it out since they entered the restaurant.

“You want to document me eating?” Harry asked, dramatically biting into a piece of bacon while looking directly into the camera.

“Oh, the ladies are gonna love that,” Louis joked, but the comment made Harry instantly look away. _That_ was not exactly his intention. “I think we should finish the initial interview,” he continued. “You know, explain why you’re doing all this.”

So, rubbing his hands together to prepare himself, Harry recounted again the story of the gun and the train, how the near death experience left him realizing how unfulfilling his life was becoming. Then he showed the camera the Fuck-It List and how he already had the first two crossed off. The next one he was quite nervous for, but that was the task for tomorrow. Ten items in ten days, and they were already on day number three.

“Can I ask you a bit of a personal question?” Louis said once Harry’s story came to an end.

Harry took a sip of his half-finished milkshake then shrugged. “Go for it.”

“Back a couple of days ago, I asked you what changed in your life that made you, well, like this.”

“Like what?” Harry said, exaggerating his defensive posture with arms crossed firmly over his chest.

“You know what I mean. But you never gave me an answer.”

“That wasn’t by accident.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want,” Louis retreated his attentive look.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll tell you.” He was looking down at his plate and moving around the food he wasn’t planning on eating with his fork. It was much easier to talk about something difficult when you didn’t have to look the person in the eye. “I used to be engaged. For about a year, actually. We were high school sweethearts, I suppose,” he laughed in spite of the sad ending to his story. “When I proposed, I knew we were too young, but we were 20 and also thought we had our lives all figured out. We lived together, I was working, and he was going to school.”

“He?” Louis clarified.

“Yes,” and that made Harry laugh. “How long were you waiting for that hint to get dropped before you could ask?”

Louis put his hands up in defence. “I had a feeling, but you never know, so I didn’t want to be so blatant. Besides, not everyone is already out by your age. And not everyone walks around with a rainbow flag advertising their sexuality to the world.” He pointed to his patch proudly.

“Fair enough. But anyway, we were engaged for so long and had never even picked a date, never mind started the wedding plans. Eventually, we realized that neither of us were ready. We had so much more to figure out and we needed to do it alone. So that was it.”

“And you haven’t dated since?”

Harry shook his head. “Not really, no. My mum and sister have tried to set me up and I’ve met a couple people at pubs, but blind dates and one-night-stands aren’t really my thing.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” Louis told him solemnly.

“Don’t be. He’s doing a lot better now. Getting his master’s degree, last I heard. That was almost a year ago.”

“And you?”

Harry met his gaze, only briefly. “I’m getting there.”

The waitress returned again to take their plates, leaving behind only Louis’ milkshake, which he swore he was going to finish. When the table was cleared, Louis readjusted the camera to get a better centred angle.

“Why did you want to film all this?” Louis asked next. “You don’t seem like the type to want to star in a movie.”

“I don’t, actually. I just wanted to make a movie. I almost got the chance once, actually.”

“Really? What happened?”

Harry leaned forward and stretched his clasped hands in front of him. “Well, I was nineteen and fresh out of school, doing nothing more than working for shit pay and writing. I had this whole screenplay done that I was absolutely in love with. It was a bit cheesy, but it was a coming of age story full of nostalgia, so producers ate it up. I got four companies willing to hear my pitch and sold it for 50k to the first and only one that said yes. It’s been stuck in pre-production ever since.”

“Are they ever going to make it?”

Harry shrugged and sighed, “Who knows? But I still got paid and all that money is sitting in my savings account. Well, most of it. Now it’s paying for this trip.”

“You’re using your life savings for this trip?”

“I’m using the money I made by fluke for a shitty script for this trip.”

“Not that I’m the best person to be giving financial advice, but shouldn’t you be saving that for like, buying a house one day, or something?”

Harry made a face like he was thinking about it for a second, then shrugged. “What’s the fun it that?”

Not able to argue with that logic, mostly because that also happened to be his own reasoning for the poorer choices he’s made, Louis decided to ask his next question instead as he played with the straw in his glass. He was getting close to the bottom of his milkshake at this point.

“So what makes someone go from living such a safe and organized life, to dropping everything to complete their bucket list?”

“Fuck-It List,” Harry corrected.

“And we’ll get back to that after. But what made you do it, besides the whole gun thing?”

“Fear mixed with reckless optimism,” Harry replied simply. “I was scared my life was getting so boring that it would end with regrets, so I decided to make it interesting.”

“Has it worked so far?”

“It’s four in the morning and I’m sitting in a diner with the person who almost accidentally shot me, on the other side of the world, telling him my life story to a camera. I’d probably use the word ‘strange’ first, but it’s definitely interesting.”

Louis was sitting still and looking mostly at the display screen, but the observation made him meet Harry’s eyes. “Sorry, again,” he said sheepishly.

“I’m not.”

He was smiling now, which Louis found sort of odd. He didn’t understand why Harry had never seemed noticeably shaken up over the incident, but he also was starting to realize that Harry wasn’t as two-dimensional as he originally thought.

Before asking the next question, Louis took a moment to look at him, to see the details he may not have picked up before. Under his eyes were thin lines that were hard to tell if they were from aging or laughing. Louis liked the idea of the reason being the latter much better. A hint of facial hair was appearing under his nose and on his chin. Normally it would be seen as something a pubescent teenager struggling to grow a moustache would have, but on Harry it suited him as carelessly rugged. Like he knew he looked good, but wanted it to seem like an accident.

“What?” Harry asked, and the smile had turned knowing. Louis tried to cover it up by taking a longer sip of his milkshake. The whipped cream had mostly melted at the bottom. Harry wasn’t the only one bad at subtlety, as it turned out.

“Next question!” Louis announced, regaining focus. “Why did you call it the Fuck-It List?”

Leaning back, Harry propped one arm up along the back rest and, with the other, tapped his fingers on the table “Well, because my first thought about making it was ‘Fuck it, why not?’ Then I realized ‘fuck-it’ sounded like ‘bucket’, and who can pass up an opportunity like that?”

Maybe it was because it was four in the morning and everything is funnier after midnight, when you know you should probably be sleeping and not in a diner on the other side of the world. Or maybe it was because of how much sugar he had just consumed in the form of a drink, but Louis started laughing. Full, boisterous laughter. And even though Harry didn’t really understand what was so funny, he started laughing too. Louis had his head thrown back and Harry was doubled over, and now it was at the point where they were just starting to feel a little crazy.

“Can I get you boys anything else?” the waitress stopped by to ask just as the laughter began to die down. She was grinning surprisingly wide for someone working a night shift.

“Yeah, actually,” Harry’s face brightened, looking at Louis as he said it. The laughter still filled his eyes. “Another round of milkshakes, please.”

~~3\. Take a Random flight anywhere.~~


	5. 4. Sing on a stage.

Around eight in the morning, just as the groups of elderly people were starting to flow in to meet up for breakfast, was when Harry got the phone call. The second hotel they stopped at said they had a cancellation, and if they could make it in the next fifteen minutes then the room was theirs.

Once Harry left enough money to cover the bill on the table, the pair hurried through the doors and tried their best to speed walk to where they remembered the hotel being. Another ten minutes later and Louis was sliding a card key into a room on the fourth floor and being greeted happily by two queen sized beds, a kitchenette, and a large flat screen TV. Without a second thought, Louis walked right up to the closest bed and collapsed face-first onto it, the soft duvet deflating around him.

“You’re sure you don’t mind sharing a room?” Harry asked, dropping his bags onto the unoccupied bed.

“With the price I just heard for tonight, we should be getting about four rooms. But no, I really don’t mind sharing.”

Stretching his arm forward, Louis grabbed the remote off of the bedside table. He turned onto his back and pressed the power button, resting his other hand between the back of his head and the pillows. The first channel the TV was turned to was the news, so Louis began clicking the arrows until he could find something better.

“I think I’m just going to take a quick shower,” Harry decided, pulling some clean clothes from his bag.

“Leave me some hot water, will ya’?” Louis made sure to ask as Harry crossed the room in front of him.

“Yeah, I’ll try not to use all the water in the hotel,” he replied sarcastically just before he closed the door and clicked the lock shut.

When he emerged from the bathroom again, fresh t-shirt and jeans on and his hair wrapped in a towel, he was met by an old James Bond movie playing on the TV, and Louis fast asleep with the remote still in his hand. With how little the guy ended up sleeping on the plane, Harry thought it best to let Louis take his impromptu nap. He’d wake him up again once he figured they ought to go explore the city and make the most of their trip.

After drying his hair and finishing his routine which was usually reserved for mornings, Harry decided to take a few minutes for himself to relax. Not long enough to nap, but maybe catch the end of that James Bond movie that was still playing in the background. He couldn’t figure out which one it was, but he didn’t really care enough to move to grab the remote and check.

While Harry was drying his hair, Louis must’ve woken up long enough to crawl underneath his blankets because he was now shaped like a tiny rolled up burrito with only his head sticking out. He looked oddly delicate as he slept, with his eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks and his lips pouted out as his cheek squished against the pillow. Then Harry realized that he probably shouldn’t be watching him as he slept. The last thing he needed to do was add any _more_ weirdness to their situation.

Harry couldn’t really tell what part of the movie he was at when his eyes began to feel heavy. For all he knew, this could be the next one in the series airing from a marathon on the channel Louis picked. While he knew the dangers of giving into jet lag, Harry also was finding it quite difficult to fight against his brain’s urge to shut down for a few hours. Travel was known to take a toll on one’s ability to function as a normal human being. So when he finally did gave in and let his eyes close, for what he presumed would be only a few minutes, he was given his own proof of the dangers of jet lag.

Louis was the first one to wake up, noticing right away how much lower the sun was in the sky. With a wide stretch and squinty eyes, still dry from sleep, Louis pulled out his phone from his back pocket. He still had the pillow bunched up to his face as he checked the time.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned loud enough to make Harry stir.

“What?” Harry mumbled as he rolled over to face Louis’ side of the room, eyes still closed.

“We overslept.”

Tossing his phone back on the mattress, Louis spread his limbs out lazily and stared at the ceiling.

Harry was just awake enough now to sit up, but he couldn’t get both eyes open and his hair was a curly mess. “What time is it?”

“Half past five.”

“ _What_?!” Both his eyes shot open and his stomach dropped. He could almost feel his pupils shrinking both from the shock, and from all the light trying to enter his eyes at once. “How did we sleep for eight hours?”

“Jet lag,” Louis mumbled, stuffing his face back into the pillow. At this point, he felt like they might as well just stay in bed until the next morning. Only, the grumbling in his stomach had different plans in mind. Considering what time they ate at Denny’s, it had been over twelve hours since their last meal.

“Well there goes most of the day,” Harry stood up to check his reflection, knowing his previous attempt at getting ready was also gone to waste. That was enough incentive to get Louis to finally push his blankets to the side and properly wake up as well.

“We still have a few hours of sunlight left. Plus it’s a Saturday, so we technically have all night too.”

“I guess, but I wanted to see the city.”

Maybe Harry sounded a bit whiney, but he didn’t care because he was upset and it was his own damn fault for not setting an alarm, anyway.

“And we will!” Louis promised. “What’s the next item on your list?”

Harry pulled the list from his pocket, proud of himself for not misplacing it yet, and handed it directly to Louis. He unfolded it and scanned the points again, trying to quickly think of how they could accomplish them while they were here.

“So you want to stay in America to finish all of them?” Louis looked up to ask.

“Might as well. You don’t travel on an eleven hour flight just to stay at your destination one night, do you?”

Without replying, Louis’ eyes read over number four a couple of times. “I think I have an idea for this next one,” he told Harry, already standing up to find an appropriate outfit in his suitcase.

“You do?”

“Yes, and I think you’re going to want to get those vocal chords of yours warmed up. Or not, actually. I think this specific activity is more about fun than talent.”

The explanation was enough to get Harry to crack a smile. “If it’s what I think it is…”

“It’s exactly what you think it is.”

 

Leaving the hotel, the duo decided to walk the streets of San Francisco, taking in the sights and, in Louis’ case, getting more footage for a montage. When they hopped into a taxi to explore the heart of the city, Louis rolled the widow down and stuck the lens out of it. Harry was imagining how it would look edited together, the cars speeding by in a time lapse, the sun just starting to set behind the buildings as they drove next to piers along the coastline. They eventually got out on Market Street where most of the restaurants and shops were near. Louis kept the camera pointed at the pavement as Harry babbled on about the energy in the air and how he was falling in love with the city. But instead of it being an annoyance, Louis liked listening to Harry speak. His tone was low and didn’t change much, but it was the words that mattered. It was like you could hear the intelligence and the passion.

Without warning, Harry turned to enter a store and Louis almost cut off the person walking behind them just to follow him. It was some sort of vintage or antique store with dark lighting that smelled of dust and mothballs, but the atmosphere was like they were instantly transported to another decade. He lost Harry almost immediately, but he didn’t care so much when his eyes spotted the table filled with vinyl records. Louis walked quickly towards it, feeling like they were practically calling out to him.

No matter how pretentious it made him seem, Louis loved everything about records, especially the used ones. The covers worn from age with the faded circle outline of the actual record on the picture. How the smell made him nostalgic for a time he never lived in. And maybe music didn’t necessarily sound _better_ on vinyl, but it sounded like it had purpose. It was much easier to really _feel_ the music.

When he realized his browsing had probably gone on for long enough at this point, Louis figured he should find where Harry had run off to. As he walked through the maze of a shop, he tried to subtly get footage of the displays, hoping the workers wouldn’t get suspicious of him and kick him out.

With no Harry in sight, Louis made his way all the way to the back of the store and around the corner. There weren’t any other people there, but it was clear you were still allowed to browse in the section. Then the quiet sound of a strumming guitar began to flow from the room with old musical instruments. Louis recognized the notes right away over a slow pattern, C… D… A minor… G… No singing was accompanying the song, but Louis quietly hummed along to what the lyrics would have been as he followed the sound.

_We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year…_

Then, sitting with his back turned on a tiny stool, he spotted Harry as the source to the lovely sound. He raised the camera a little higher and recorded the next verse and chorus, a soft smile on his lips that he was unable to wipe away.

“ _Wish You Were Here_ ,” Louis finally said, and Harry immediately stopped and whipped his entire body around. His cheeks turned a flaming red. “No, don’t stop! I love Pink Floyd. That whole album was brilliant.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone could hear,” Harry said embarrassedly as he stood up and hung the guitar back on the wall. Louis pressed pause on the recording.

“I didn’t know you could play guitar.”

“Only a bit. I just learned for fun, I’m not a musician.”

“If you can perform music, then you’re a musician,” Louis said. “And by the sounds of it, you’re quite good as well.”

Harry looked at him long enough for a slight smile to grow, “Thanks.”

“As fun as I’m sure it would be to have some sort of jam session right now, I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Harry said quickly, meeting him back at the entrance. “Let’s get some dinner then, shall we?”

Louis followed him back out of the room, already knowing he’d now have the song stuck in his head for the rest of the day.

The next stop was the restaurant only a few doors down, mostly because they were too hungry to bother searching any further. Since there was a rooftop patio, they asked for a table up there. Louis ordered himself a beer and, with little convincing necessary, got Harry to order a drink as well. He settled for a mojito, only because he was put on the spot and it was the first thing he saw on the drinks menu.

“Do you not normally drink?” Louis asked, his menu open vertically in his lap instead of on the table.

“I quit for a while after all that stuff that happened last year. Alcohol and sadness are not a cocktail made for good times,” he laughed to cover up the uncomfortable undertone of the statement. Louis smiled, but with much less humour.

“You aren’t breaking your sobriety by ordering that drink, are you?”

“No, that ship sailed a few days ago. I never had a problem, just didn’t want to develop one, you know?”

Louis nodded, and Harry began to wonder why he was telling him all this. He wasn’t usually one to discuss his personal life, never mind his feelings, and especially not to someone he barely knew. Emotional burdens were typically reserved for friends and therapists, but he supposed he might be able to start calling Louis his friend now. Those were something he was running short on lately.

The drinks arrived and Louis took a large gulp of his right away. While beer might not be the recommended way to quench one’s thirst, it sure seemed to do the trick. They placed their orders, Louis picking the chicken burger while Harry went for a steak salad.

Harry took a slow sip of his mojito, cringing slightly at the sour taste. He then glanced over his shoulder at the sight of the setting sun over the city, light bouncing off the reflections on the windows. The sky was clear and the distant waves in the ocean seemed like they were moving so much slower. All of time kind of did when you weren’t caught up in the rush of daily life.

He didn’t realize Louis was also taking in the view until his turned his attention back to him. His eyes were squinted from how bright it was, but the light hit his face so perfectly his skin was practically glowing.

“What’s the first patch you got on that jacket?” Harry asked. The question had been sitting at the back of his mind for a while now.

Louis pulled the fabric forward to search for it, then pointed to the Green Day logo for _American Idiot_ just under his collar bone. “That one. When I was fifteen I had just gotten my first paycheck from working at a cinema. All at once I bought this jacket, the _American Idiot_ album, and this patch that they were selling for a pound next to the register at the record store. Been collecting them ever since.”

Harry nodded curiously at the explanation, then kept staring at the other patches. “What about that Rolling Stones one?”

“They were almost my first concert. My friend and I couldn’t get tickets because of how expensive they were, so we tried to see if we could sneak in. Even waited near the ramp like groupies would in the seventies to see if we could find anyone to follow through the doors. We ended up sitting at the top of a hill next to the car park and listening to the muffled echoes of it from the outside, instead.” Louis looked down and smiled at the fond memory. “It wasn’t exactly the same, but it was quite the experience.”

“The friend was Elijah again, right?” Harry tapped a finger against his glass

“It was, yeah. We were partners-in-crime, I guess you could say.”

“Did he go to school with us as well?”

“Yeah, he and I were in the same year so I don’t think you would’ve known him. I’m not sure you and I were exactly around the same crowd.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Just because I didn’t know you doesn’t mean I didn’t know of you. I hung out with the band kids and around the smoke pit, you hung out with the preppy kids around the bleachers. I don’t mean anything by it. Who you are in high school is just who you think you want to be. What you do afterwards is what actually counts.”

Louis lifted his drink to his lips again, peering over the rim.

“Well, you aren’t wrong,” Harry sighed, following suit. “So what was your real first concert, then?”

Hesitating for a moment, he finally muttered “Kelly Clarkson,” while hiding his smirk behind the glass as he leaned back against his chair.

Harry dropped his head and laughed. “Okay, I was not expecting that.”

“Come on, not all my music taste is pretentious classic rock! Don’t trust people who call the charts ‘The Worst Top 40’ because pop music doesn’t equate to bad music. Besides, Since U Been Gone is a timeless classic,” Louis procured.

“Again, you aren’t wrong.”

“What was _your_ first concert?”

“Never been to one,” Harry said nonchalantly.

“What?!” Louis gasped, and Harry just shrugged. “Concerts are a spiritual experience,” he continued. “That feeling of unity and uncompromising joy in the room over the love of music cannot be beat. _That_ should be on your bucket list.”

“Fuck-It List,” Harry corrected.

“Right, well, I’m taking you to a concert. I don’t know when, but soon. That virginity is one that you shouldn’t still have past your teens.”

As luck would have it, the last sentence is the one the waiter managed to overhear as he brought over their plates of food. Louis couldn’t seem to care less, however. He was more focused on how delicious the burger that was being placed in front of him looked.

A second round of drinks and an order of cheesecake later – because they were on a holiday, dammit, and they felt like having dessert – they were walking out the front doors and just starting to feel a bit tipsy. Louis got the directions for their next destination from the waiter and they began their short trek to finish the next item on Harry’s list.

The bar was busy, but not quite enough that they couldn’t find a table. Harry got them drinks from the bar while Louis saved their spots in the middle of the room, just behind a metal bar that divided the dance floor from the sitting area. Up on the stage was someone singing _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_ who was definitely more than a few shots in already. Just seeing her up there with the colourful lights dancing around her as she squawked out the words made Harry more nervous than anything else.

“You’ve really never done karaoke before?” Louis asked as Harry returned with the drinks.

“Performing has never exactly been my thing, but the people up there always look like they’re having so much fun.”

Louis pulled one leg up on his chair and rested his arm lazily on his knee. “It is fun. And I signed you up for your turn already. Three more people, then you’re up.”

“Wait _what_?”

The expression on Louis’ face immediately turned to confusion. “Is this not what the next item on your list is? To sing on a stage?”

“Well it is, but- I just-” Harry stammered trying to come up with some sort of excuse.

“You’re nervous,” Louis finished for him.

“Terrified.”

Harry looked at his drink in front of him, wondering if he should just down it all.

“It’s a karaoke bar. No one cares how bad or good you sound.”

“But they’re still going to be looking at me. Plus, it needs to be recorded for the documentary.”

“We don’t _have_ to record it.”

“Yes we do.”

Looking between Harry and the stage, where the next person was just starting the first verse of _Call Me Maybe_ , most likely to make his friends laugh, Louis came up with an idea.

“Let’s do a duet.”

“As in, sing together?”

“That’s what a duet is, yes.”

“What would we sing?”

The instant pep that appeared in Harry’s voice let Louis know that he was definitely liking the idea. Which meant Louis really would have to get up on that stage himself. Despite comments to encourage Harry to go up there, he had never actually sang to anyone other than his guitar He never saw himself as much of a front man, but he supposed there was a first time for everything.

“What do you like?”

“David Bowie,” Harry said almost immediately. If he was going to sing something to get over his stage fright, the song might as well be by his favourite artist.

“Ah, good choice,” Louis grinned, pointing to the Bowie lighting logo patch near the bottom hem of his jacket. “What’s your favourite Bowie song, then? We’ll see if they have it.”

“ _Changes_ off of Hunky Dory,” he said excitedly, and now the nerves were easing off a bit.

“That was one of my favourite songs as a teenager,” Louis commented.

Harry smiled. “Mine too. I’ll go check the song list.”

He was off again and Louis couldn’t help but wonder of there was a reason the universe made him meet Harry again. Only so many things can feel like coincidences before you realize they weren’t just coincidences.

When their turn finally came, they both downed their drinks and the small crowd clapped for no real reason. Harry hopped up the two steps to the stage first, taking the microphone the DJ handed him. A few feet behind, Louis was at a table asking two boys, who looked to be a couple, if they could film the performance with the camera. The one with lighter hair and an outfit that looked straight out of an Instagram post happily agreed.

The music began to sound through the speakers and a few who recognized the title cheered them on. Louis made Harry sing the first bit, which he managed to do so with a slight shake in his voice. When Louis took on the second half verse himself, Harry kept raising his hands with a goofy grin on his face to make him sing louder. He had to pick a spot at the back of the room to look at and avoid eye contact with any of the audience members to make it through, but he did it.

_Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes_

_Turn and face the strange_

_Ch-ch-changes…_

Without realizing it, Louis ended up leading the chorus while Harry took on the background vocals. They were laughing and they were looking at each other while the tiny crowd sang along and suddenly there were no more nerves. In his mind, Louis felt like he was at Madison Square Garden or the O2 Arena, performing for thousands of adoring fans. He’d brush off the idea knowing it was just his ego shining through, but that didn’t stop him from dreaming.

 By no means was it an amazing performance, no that that was even the goal, but they were having fun. And when Harry messed up the next verse so bad he couldn’t easily fix it, Louis took over to help him along. They didn’t really care so much about taking turns anymore and just sang to their heart’s content.

Then the song was over and more cheering came from the crowd, not warranted for anything other than the fact that they just got up on that stage and did it. Before walking off and handing the mics back, Harry wrapped one arm around Louis’ shoulders and pulled him in for a celebratory hug. Louis stumbled to the side a bit and laughed through the gesture, but didn’t ignore the whisper of Harry saying “Thank you,” before they parted.

“That was so fun!” Harry gushed as he followed Louis towards the table where he left the camera. “Hell, I might even consider putting my name on that list again.”

“You guys were great!” The instagram-esque boy with the camera said as they approached him. He was standing up to give it back to Louis and pat him lightly on the back.

“Thanks, man,” Louis said, putting the strap back around his neck. “Are either of you guys going up there?”

“Well, I already had a turn, but I’m still trying to convince this one,” he pointed with a thumb to the darker haired boy next to him.

“It’s really not as scary as it seemed,” Harry told him.

The second boy shrugged and took his foot down from where it was rested on the chair across from him. The fabric of his shoes was a shiny red colour that stood out more than anything else he had on. “We’ll see,” he said with a tiny smile.

“Care to join us?” asked Instagram Boy as he motioned to the empty chairs. “Unless you have friends to get back to.”

“No, we’ll join you,” Harry told them, pulling out one of the chairs to take a seat. “Might just need to head to the bar for another round soon.”

“Yeah, us too. So where’re you guys from? That’s definitely not an American accent I hear.”

“London,” Louis replied first. “Just on a bit of a holiday.”

“Ah, we’ve been there,” he nudged Red Shoes next to him. “Beautiful city.”

“It is,” Harry agreed. “Do you guys live in the city?”

“No,” Red Shoes said quickly. “We’re from Montana, but we don’t really live anywhere specific.”

Harry and Louis exchanged glances.

“What, like drifters?” Louis asked.

“No, no,” Instagram Boy laughed. “More like we needed a change so we decided to take a road trip and see where we ended up. Use up our savings for the year.”

Sounds familiar, Harry thought without saying.

“You think you’re going to stay here, then?” he asked instead.

“Eventually, maybe. Not yet,” Red Shoes smiled.

“I’m Liam, by the way,” said Instagram Boy, then he pointed at Red Shoes. “And this is my boyfriend, Zayn.”

“Russell,” Louis said.

 _Oh,_ Harry quickly realized, _so we’re playing this game again?_

“I’m Anthony,” Harry introduced himself. He really had to work on remembering the details of this whole “fake identity” thing. “How long have you two been together?”

“Five years, now,” they looked at each other, both smiling. That gave Harry and idea to make this a bit more interesting. If they’re going to lie just for the entertainment, might as well go all out.

“We’re actually celebrating two years,” Harry grinned, patting Louis’ knee, and Louis practically snapped his neck to look at him. Surprisingly, his recovery with a matching smile went smoothly.

“Oh, well, Happy Anniversary!” Liam said. “Let us buy you another round, then. Cheap champagne all around?”

“Sounds great, thanks,” Harry laughed.

“Great! Zayn, help me with the glasses, would you?”

Once they were out of earshot, Louis turned his full body towards Harry and tried to speak between gritted teeth.

“So Russel and Anthony are still together, are they?”

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun. Besides, you wanted to fake this for my family. Might as well fake it for people we’ll never see again, instead.”

“Should we pick our fake careers as well, then? I want to be a nuclear physicist,” Louis said exaggeratedly.

“Maybe pick something you actually know a bit about.”

“A chef?” he offered instead.

Harry pulled his eyebrows together. “You can cook?”

“If cereal and frozen pizza count, then yes.”

“Fine, I want to be a cop.”

“A cop? Really?” Unimpressed, Louis’s gaze fell back towards the stage.

“My fake identity, my choice,” he defended.

“So if we’re a fake couple, does this mean we have to practice kissing so it looks more believable?” Louis’ grin turned sly and Harry cocked his head, unable to tell if he was joking.

“If that’s your idea of a pick-up line, I think we’ll have to work on flirting first,” Harry retorted quick enough that he got all of the words out just before Liam and Zayn returned.

Once they each had their drinks, they did a quick cheers and took their first sips. Attempting to get to know each other a little better, Harry and Louis – er, Anthony and Russell – explained a bit more about their lives and how they just moved in together. When Zayn asked Louis what his signature dish as a chef was, Louis replied with ‘Beef Strangoli’. Harry had to focus all his energy on not laughing while Louis described what was basically spaghetti and meatballs, but with more fancy words that would go with his made-up dish.

What was more interesting was finding out more about Liam and Zayn. Their real lives, that is. Liam used to be an environmental lawyer, while Zayn taught at an elementary school. They met each other through Liam’s secretary on a double date, and had been together ever since. A month ago was when they sold their house, bought an old station wagon in which they could convert the very back into a bed, and began their cross-country road trip.

“So how long are you staying in town for?” Liam asked at the end of their story.

“We’re not really sure,” Harry told them, “We might not even stay in San Francisco the whole time we’re here. This trip is mostly just winging it.”

“Actually,” Zayn piped up, leaning forward in his seat, “We’re headed to Las Vegas tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah, you’re welcome to come if you’d like. We have plenty of room,” Liam smiled eagerly.

As many excuses as Harry could think of why this would be a bad idea – these two were strangers, they don’t even know this country well, the idea was too reckless – none were reasons he hadn’t already broken just to be sitting where he was right now.

“What do you think, _babe_?” Harry looked at Louis, who only shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m up for it if you are, _darlin’_ ,” he said in return, holding back his smirk.

Harry could feel the Fuck-It List in his pocket, very aware of what number five was and how easy it would be to cross it off just by going.

He took a deep breath. “So what time are we leaving tomorrow?”

 _Well_ , Harry thought, _looks like this little_ joke _is going on for a bit longer than planned._

~~4\. Sing on a stage.~~


	6. 5. Go on a road trip.

To leave for Vegas the next day, ‘bright and early’ was not exactly the plan. Well, Liam and Zayn did pick them up bright and early – nine in the morning, to be exact, (It felt early for them, okay?) – but the first stop was not Las Vegas.

When Liam texted Harry late in the night, after they got back from the karaoke bar, he asked Harry if they had seen much of the area yet. Harry said no because they had only been there for two days and most of that was spent sleeping, but that turned out to be exactly the answer Liam was hoping for. So Louis and Harry groggily got ready for the day, fighting like children over who would get to take a shower first just so they could wake up, then checked out and waited outside the hotel for Liam and Zayn to arrive.

Their station wagon, as expected, was old and covered in rusted blue paint. There was even a strip of wood that wrapped around the car just under all the windows like a belt. Louis and Harry exchanged glances just before Zayn rolled his window down from the passenger seat.

“Come on, put your bags in the back and get in,” Liam shouted cheerily from his side of the car.

“Good morning to you, too,” Louis mumbled with just enough sarcasm that he could still get away with sounding friendly. No one but Harry noticed Zayn’s muted laughter in response.

After getting into the back seats and slamming their doors, Liam put the car into drive and took them back onto the city streets. In the first moments of silence Zayn turned over his right shoulder to speak to Louis. “Excuse Liam’s pep, he’s a morning person.”

“Clearly,” Louis raised his eyebrows with a tight-lipped smile.

“You smoke?” Zayn asked, and that seemed to catch Louis’ attention much easier.

“Like it’s my religion.”

Leaning forward, Zayn grabbed the pack and lighter that were in the cup holders between him and Liam, and offered them out to Louis after taking one for himself. Louis happily rested the cigarette between his lips while he waited his turn for the lighter.

“Anthony?” Zayn waved the pack at Harry and it took him a full five seconds before he pulled his gaze away from out the window and realized he was being spoken to.

“Oh, no thanks,” Harry shook his head. He really was having trouble getting used to this whole ‘fake identity’ thing.

“Good thinking,” Zayn praised. “Liam tried to get me to quit smoking when he did, but the habit is too hard to kick.”

“He also just loved them too much to want to,” Liam commented dryly. It was hard to tell if the subject was sensitive, or if Liam cared so little that the sarcasm was just natural. “Roll down the window, will ‘ya?”

Zayn did as Liam requested, then proceeded to crank up the volume knob on the radio. It was set to some classic rock station, which Louis noticed instantly, but only mumbled along to the lyrics _of No Sugar Tonight_ by The Guess Who. As overzealous as he usually was, he decided to keep himself a bit more reserved for now.

“How long is this drive going to take us, anyway?” Harry asked, having to raise his voice slightly above the music.

Liam didn’t bother to turn it down as he replied, “A little over nine hours, but we do have a stop to make beforehand.”

“What’s the stop?” Louis piped up. He was staring dazedly out the window and playing with his own hands.

“Last night you said this was your first time in America, so I take it you haven’t been in the Pacific Ocean yet, right?”

“Well, no…” Harry trailed off.

“We have the perfect place to take you, then,” Zayn told them, looking at their reflections behind him from the side view mirror.

Louis turned towards Harry with wide eyes and nudged his thigh. Once he got Harry’s attention, he mouthed the words, “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

“Me neither,” Harry shrugged worriedly.

Liam must’ve noticed the exchange in his rear view mirror because he finally turned down the music then said, “You don’t have to swim if you don’t want. Just dip your feet in.”

That settled well enough with Harry, but Louis suddenly let out a startled gasp.

“I haven’t got any footage yet from today!” he said, reaching for the camera bag at his feet.

“No worries, it’s still early,” Harry reassured, but Louis was quick to whip the camera out.

Zayn turned around in his seat to get a look at what they were talking about while Liam looked confusedly between the road and his mirror again.

“Footage for what?” Zayn asked.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Louis beat him to it. “We’re filming a documentary.”

“What about?”

“I made a list,” Harry started the explanation, trying to sound as casual as he could so they wouldn’t think he was crazy. “It’s of all the things I wish I would’ve done if I only had today left to live. The idea is to finish it all in ten days.” He stretched a leg out so he could dig the list out of his pocket, then handed it to Zayn to unfold. “One of them was to make a movie, so I decided to document it all like this,” he pointed towards Louis, who was happily filming the interaction between the two of them.

“You don’t mind if we film, do you?” Louis asked from behind the camera. They both looked at him over the shot, Zayn pulling his eyes away from the list. “We could always blur your faces and change your voices if we have to.”

“Nah, man, that sounds sick! Film all you want,” Liam agreed.

“You’re really going to finish this whole list?” Zayn asked, still holding it in his hands.

“If I can, yeah,” Harry replied softly.

“Number five, ‘Go on a road trip,’ that’s what this is?”

“It is now. I – er, we – don’t really have much of a plan. We’re just taking it day by day, hoping to cross at least one off to keep on schedule.”

“What made you want to do this?”

Zayn folded it up and handed it back to Harry. The question was one he still wasn’t sure what the right answer was. He just knew that he _had_ to do it.

“I was so caught up in my daily routine that I was starting to feel like a robot. I wasn’t doing anything of significance, I was just existing. It’s like, everyone knows they’re going to die, but what’s more important to remember is that before that, you’re going to have to live. So that’s what I decided I needed to do.”

“Easier said than done,” Liam commented.

Louis smiled from behind the camera, glad he was capturing the moment, then angled the lens to get a proper zoom on Harry’s face.

“So I’ve been discovering.”

“I take it you’ve been assigned camera man, then,” Zayn looked at Louis’ instead of into the lens. Oddly, they were yet to really break the fourth wall. Maybe a voice-over narration by Harry would fill in the gaps nicely.

“As boyfriend, I think it was more like an obligation.”

Harry was starting to wonder how long they were going to be able to get away with all of this. It was too late now to tell them the truth since they were sat in the back of their car, and mooching a ride off them so they could explore more of the country. If they had to be Anthony and Russell for the next duration of the trip, then so be it.

“So you don’t have your own bucket list?” questioned Liam.

“Fuck-It List,” Harry corrected.

“I’m just along for the ride,” Louis said. “I let him be the crazy one and watch from the sidelines.”

“Yeah, for once,” Harry retorted. And even though the remark had no evidence to support that Louis was normally the crazy one, especially since their relationship was fake, Harry still smirked at his comment like a suburban house wife gossiping with friends over a glass of wine. He was just trying to sell the dynamic between them.

 

To get to this mysterious beach that Liam and Zayn had in mind took about an hour, which they filled with mindless chatter and another round of cigarettes for Zayn and Louis. Harry never understood the habit considering he practically coughed up a lung, and maybe a kidney while he was at it, the one time he took a puff as a teenager, but he supposed an addiction like that was never something he had to deal with in his life.

The highway they took was right along the coast, giving Louis a much better view out his window than Harry had, but he still took in every sight like it was an amazement to behold. And it really was. The clear skies, the sun gleaming, the lively ocean on one side of them, and vast greenery on the other. What wasn’t amazing about it?

Liam pulled off on a back road that was presumed to lead them to this beach that he and Zayn had mentioned. The road was narrow and covered in gravel, and the trees on either side were overgrown, but soon they were in a car park with very few other cars in sight.

“We don’t mean to take any time away from your trip or-” Harry began, but was cut off by Liam shaking his head.

“You aren’t. We’ve been to San Francisco about five times and every time we visit this place.”

“It’s a tradition,” Zayn added. Then the car was being turned off and everyone was opening their doors.

Liam and Zayn seemed to have thought of everything when they packed for their trip. While spontaneity was the idea amongst all four of them, at least this couple knew how to plan ahead. Opening the back of the car, Liam took out a picnic blanket, a couple of rolled up towels, and a large beach umbrella, handing them out for everyone to carry something.

“How long are we staying here?” Louis asked, trying to find the right way to balance the umbrella that was significantly larger than him.

Now that they were standing up, Zayn’s bare torso under a button-up Hawaiian shirt was now visible. Not that it was a horrible sight, but still surprising to see.

“However long you need for the sun to cleanse your soul,” Zayn said. Harry and Louis exchanged refrained grimaces at his words.

The beach was down a short trail and could be seen though the folds of trees, so Liam led the way. Louis stuck close to Harry, the camera dangling from around his neck.

“I think they’re hippies,” he whispered so only Harry could hear.

“Hippies? I mean sure they’re a little strange, but I think they….” Harry trailed off when he followed Louis’ head nod at the ground in front of them. They were both walking completely barefoot. Not even sandals or flip-flops, just skin on ground.

“I also might’ve found something in between my seat and the door,” Louis slowly lifted a tiny bag from his pocket so Harry could see.

“Is that pot?” Harry asked, glancing at it like he shouldn’t look too long or he’ll start hearing sirens in the distance.

“Yes, grandpa,” Louis mocked. “It’s what all the kids are smoking these days.”

“You can’t steal their drugs!” Harry whisper-yelled, pushing Louis’ hand back into his pocket to keep the bag hidden.

“It’s is barely a gram, you really think that’s all they had? Besides, I think it’s legal here.”

“You guys coming?” Zayn asked, and they didn’t realize until then how far they had fallen behind.

“Yeah, got distracted, sorry!” Harry called back. The two quickened their pace to keep up.

For the most part, the beach was pretty much unoccupied. Save for the few seagulls that were hanging out around some washed up plant life, looking for whatever they could find for lunch.

The four of them set up a spot right in the middle of the light coloured sand, not too close or too far from the water. At the far end was a rocky cliff that formed a crescent around the beach as the water threw itself against it in waves. Liam tried to lay out the picnic blanket, fighting the wind until Louis stepped in to help. He was only able to do so because he handed the umbrella off the Harry when he couldn’t figure out how to get the damn thing open.

Instead of helping out, Zayn took a few steps toward the water alone. The wind was blowing his shirt back and the aviators he wore reflected the sunlight. It was like he was in the middle of a photo shoot for a romance novel cover.

“Is there any smell fresher than saltwater on a hot summer day?” Zayn shouted at them.

“Smells like seaweed,” Harry commented, mostly to himself.

“Yeah, because it’s an ocean,” Louis retorted jokingly. Harry shot him a look, then started to head in the same direction Zayn was going

“Where are you going?” asked Louis.

Harry walked backwards to say, “You can’t go to the Pacific Ocean for the first time and not dip your feet in.” Then he began jogging towards the shoreline, hopping and pulling his shoes off his feet while he ran.

Barely taking a second to think it over, Louis uncrossed his arms to follow and soon Liam was just behind them as well. Harry kept moving forward until the water was just below his knees, then bent down to let his hands glide through it. The feeling was absolutely freezing against his skin, but it wasn’t exactly unwanted as the late morning sun beat down on them.

“Anyone feel like going for a swim?” Liam asked after only a few moments of wading around.

“We already said we didn’t have swimsuits,” Louis reminded him, but Liam was already taking his shirt off and balling it up.

“We don’t need ‘em,” Liam shrugged, then moved to the shallower end to rid himself of his shorts until he was only in his underwear.

“It’s been so long since we last went skinny dipping, hasn’t it, Li?” Zayn asked, following suit.

“Months, I’m sure.”

Louis touched Harry’s arm lightly then hid himself behind him as he said, “I told you, I think they’re crazy.”

“I don’t know, it sounds kind of fun.”

“What?” Louis dropped his hand and took a half step back.

“Yeah, it’s something I think I should’ve put on the list, actually,” Harry said. And then he was taking off his shirt too and Louis didn’t really know what to do next. Mostly since his breath escaped all his lungs at once because, wow, he did not realize that’s what Harry looked like under a layer of cotton. It took him a moment to actually compose himself once he tore his eyes away. What he did know is that he was absolutely not going to go skinny dipping with a bunch of strangers. Yes, even Harry included. And he also knew he had a tiny bag of weed that was now his in his pocket that probably should not be getting wet.

“You joining us?” Zayn called out at them.

“You aren’t coming too?” Harry asked quickly.

“Really not my thing,” Louis shook his head. He already was starting to feel a little left out even though it was his own choice, but he could not bring himself away from the thought that he’d have to walk naked across that beach to get a towel afterwards if he did. Not to mention he was pretty sure Liam only grabbed two towels.

“I am!” Harry replied to Zayn, tossing his shirt into the wind in the same direction Liam did. Louis gave him space as he removed everything but his underwear, really trying not to glance at anything else. Then Harry pulled the Fuck-It List out of his disrobed shorts pocket. “Keep it safe, will ‘ya?”

“I’ll protected with my life,” Louis said dramatically, hoping to get a laugh out of Harry, but he was already running off towards the others.

“If you’re going to get footage, try not to get my dick on camera!” Harry shouted back at him, and Louis could honestly not tell if it was a joke or not.

For a few minutes Louis sat alone on the beach, taking in the sight of the sun glistening off the water and breathing in that whole fresh air thing Zayn was talking about. Harry wasn’t wrong, he supposed. It really did smell strongly of seaweed.

Louis had the camera zoomed in on the other three in the water, panning between each of their faces. Harry was laughing that wide, open-mouthed laugh, and his hair was all wet and slicked back as he used all his strength to splash Zayn with a mini-wave. Liam was trying his best to keep his head above water because, even though Louis had already deemed them both as hippies, he still had that whole Instagram aesthetic about him that indicated he did not want to mess up his hair. To get Harry back, Zayn proceeded to dunk his head even though he still had his sunglasses on. When he came back up he had a handful of seaweed that he started to chase Harry with. The laughter between them both was now mixed with screaming until Zayn threw it and a single long leaf landed over Harry’s shoulder while the rest fell behind him in the water. To get it off, he started floating on his back which put his crotch so close to the surface that Louis was thinking they might actually have to blur some of this footage. But they were all smiling and enjoying themselves, far more than Louis was sitting alone on that beach.

“Fuck it,” Louis said out loud to himself. The phrase had become a motto for the trip. Having had enough of feeling sorry for himself, he stood up and pulled off his shirt and shorts, leaving his pants to be removed once he was under water. He left the camera where it was, still recording the ocean from where it sat. Then he started running through the sand and the others cheered him on when they noticed.

If he was going to be a part of this whole bucket list thing, he was going to have to do it right. If that meant doing something scary, then bring on the freezing water and shrinkage. At least it was better than sitting on the sidelines.

 

The atmosphere was different once they were all back in the car. Not awkward so much, but more, ‘Well, we all just definitely saw each other’s asses, and probably caught a glimpse of dick by accident.’ Zayn and Liam obviously didn’t care amongst themselves since it was nothing new, and by how comfortable they still seemed, they were most likely part of a nudist colony at some point. They also probably didn’t think the other two in the back seat cared much either, because as far as they knew, Anthony and Russell have been in a relationship for two years. Normal, have-definitely-seen-each-other’s-penis, relationship. But that was not the case, unfortunately. Harry and Louis could still look each other in the eye, but it was a knowing look.

So Louis decided he needed to break the tension. Because, yes, he practically just saw Harry naked, but they weren’t frat bros in a locker room. He had seen plenty of dicks in his lifetime. In fact, he quite liked-

Okay, _no_ , this was not helping.

Harry felt his phone buzz in his pocket and leaned to one side to pull it out. _Tube Man._ He really needed to change that.

_I knew we’d see each other naked on this trip, but I didn’t realize it would be so soon ;)_

Harry glanced up at Louis, who was smirking down at his phone still, very aware Harry’s eyes were on him. His outward cocky appearance did not reflect his inner thoughts.

Harry: _I didn’t realize I was so irresistible._

Harry smiled slyly as he hit send so Louis would know it was playful. And maybe it could be seen as shameless flirting, but really he was just playing the part of Anthony, and that was definitely the way he talked to his boyfriend of two years, Russell.

Tube Man: _Please, you couldn’t resist my charm._

So, just to prove a point, Harry clicked off his phone without responding.

Once they parted ways from the coast, the road turned to dessert land and the view remained constant. There were few choices as to how to keep busy. Like Liam, you could fall deep into thought at you drove, insisting that you didn’t need a break from sitting behind the wheel. Or you could be like Zayn, who had his feet up on the dash and was chain smoking with Louis while the two of them talked about The Doors or whatever band Louis was now rambling about.

Harry had the camera in his hands and was scrolling through some of the footage and tuning the others out. Visually, the shots and angles Louis chose for each scene looked great. What it was missing seemed to be on Harry’s side of the camera. It was the way the purpose of story was supposed to make you feel.

“So did you actually get to meet the band?”

Harry’s ears were slowly allowing the sounds of the conversation between Louis and Zayn to flow back in. Louis seemed to be once again recounting his brief career as an illegal roadie for a summer.

“Yeah, they were great, but the real characters you meet are behind the scenes,” Louis said, bringing a cigarette to his lips again. This many hours in, Harry had long gotten used to the burning smell.

“Wait, so what did you do afterwards?” Zayn was slouched so far in his seat that his head was below the headrest and his crossed feet blocked his side of the windshield.

“I worked at a record store at one point. I’m a cliché, I know,” Louis joked in spite of himself. “I liked it, but it was shit pay so I was doing odd jobs while also getting demos out there. The epitome of ‘starving artist’.”

“What kind of odd jobs?”

“Actually,” Louis sat up and prefaced the story with a laugh, “One time I thought I’d donate sperm.”

Harry raised his eyebrows and Liam glanced at him in the rear view mirror once again. Clearly this story sparked attention.

“When you’re twenty-one and broke and find out you can make a couple hundred quid by just rubbing one out, the appeal is definite.”

“Did you go through with it?” Liam asked, voice intrigued.

“I asked my flatmate what he thought of the idea and he said he could never do it, but I didn’t want to take his advice so I went to this little clinic alone with a plan to just not tell anyone. I was pretty clueless to the whole process, except for the fact that they give you a magazine and send you into a room with a cup. Again, sounded easy, and the money sounded even better, But then they started asking me all these questions about my education and making sure I was okay with my DNA being out there. Eventually I decided I just needed to get the hell out of there. And thank God I did.”

“Does that story have a patch to commemorate the memory?” Harry asked. He meant it as a joke, but you never knew with Louis.

“Are you asking if there’s a patch in the shape of a sperm cell somewhere on this jacket?” Louis cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, is there?”

Louis lifted the corner of his mouth and shook his head. “I didn’t think that story needed a place.”

“So all those patches have stories, do they?” Zayn wondered.

The jacket was bunched up on the middle seat since it was far too hot in the car for Louis to be wearing it.

“Yeah, I get them when something big happens in my life or when I really want to remember something. You want to see them?”

“Sure,” Zayn put a hand out and Louis tossed the jacket over the shoulder of the seat so it would land in his lap. Letting his cigarette dangle at the corner of his mouth for a moment, Zayn held it up with two hands and looked at all the shapes and colours on the back.

“What’s the story behind the key?” he decided to ask about.

Louis looked out the window, but kept his face stoic. “First love,” he said.

“Why a key?”

“We got a place together when we moved out of our parents’ houses, so it was to symbolize that. It wasn’t really a decision to move in together, but we just got kicked off that tour and we didn’t want to go home so that was the only choice. Didn’t last long, but it was fun for a while.”

“Elijah was your first love?” Harry asked rather abruptly, more surprised than even he expected himself to be.

Louis nodded, but wasn’t able to say anything else because Liam still had a comment.

“First loves only really matter if they’re the ones that last,” he said. It was intended to make Louis feel better, but in his own experience, Harry couldn’t say he agreed. “Besides, you have Anthony now, right?”

“Right,” Louis said loudly, the tone in realization that they were still playing characters. He looked wide-eyed at Harry.

“Wait!” Zayn blurted and all eyes were suddenly on him. He handed Louis the jacket back then turned to the radio. “I love this song!”

Only the first few notes of the piano sounded through the speakers, but Louis recognized it immediately. “It this Tiny Dancer?!” He asked excitedly, leaning forward in his seat. “Turn it up, we have to do _the Almost Famous_ scene.”

“The what?” Zayn looked to Harry for answers.

“I think he just means we have to sing along while we drive,” Harry explained, but Louis was already ahead of the game.

_“Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band,_

_Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man…”_

Louis started them off, and the other three joined because the music was so loud, now, that they had no other choice. And really, you can’t be in a car with a bunch of friends - or strangers, in this case - speeding along a highway with Tiny Dancer playing and _not_ sing along to it while vainly feeling like you’re on top of the world. Didn’t Ed Sheeran write a whole song about that?

“ _Hold me closer tiny dancer,”_ they began to belt the famous line, but the radio turned to static at the last word.

“NO!” Louis shouted like he was in agonizing pain. They must’ve just reached the end of the range for the station.

“I’ll see if I can get it back,” Zayn said and began turning the tuning knob. But instead of getting Tiny Dancer, the dial landed on a station blasting the pre-chorus of _Since U Been Gone_ by Kelly Clarkson.

Harry and Louis exchanged knowing looks. It was almost _too_ convenient.

No one said anything, but when the chorus began, they shouted the lyrics at the top of their lungs. It wasn’t Elton John, but dammit if it wasn’t a bop in its own right. That girl won the first season of _American Idol_ and went on to sell millions of records for a reason.

The words were sang, or rather, shouted, with the same amount of angst as a teenager going through their first break-up after they saw their boyfriend or girlfriend of one month talking to someone else. Heartache worthy of its own cheesy romance movie, but the true feeling behind it was pure joy. But really, fuck feelings because that wasn’t important. The singing was horrible and off pitch and out of tune, but more than that it was fun.

For a moment they weren’t four strangers in a car, half of them lying to the other half and, all of them going through their own existential crises. They were just people – children, practically – enjoying a moment of which they’d probably have plenty more just like, but never one exactly the same.

And as the final words faded out, they were left laughing and out of breath. Their throats were a little sore, but that was the price to pay.

“That girl can sing, man,” Louis said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’d go straight for her,” joked Liam, and Zayn retaliated with a glare and a light slap to his arm. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to cause Harry to double over in laughter behind them.

After that, music continued to fill the silence, and it was a lot less awkward than before.

 

At each gas station, the person that didn’t have to pee was the one designated to stand at the pumps and do the actual gas-filling part. The other three would take their turns at the toilets and stock up on snacks, maybe grab some magazines for the road. As they were piling back into the car, this time Zayn taking the driver’s seat since he filled the car anyway, Liam had an interesting shaped bag in his lap.

“What’s that?” Zayn asked, looking him up and down.

“Well, I read online somewhere that it’s legal to have open alcohol in the car in California as long as the driver isn’t drinking it,” Liam said, looking at all of them.

“Are you-? That cannot be true,” Louis said, shaking his head.

Harry agreed. “There’s no way.”

“It is!”

“Liam, I love you, but you’re quite gullible when it comes to this sort of thing,” Zayn sighed like it was the kind of thing he was used to hearing.

“Look, I’ll guarantee it,” he pulled out his phone to bring the website back up and showed the other three. It wasn’t any sort of government site, but it did look quite convincing.

“Alright, well, what’s in the bag then?” asked Zayn, still not totally buying it.

“Beer,” Liam grinned pulling the 6-pack out of the white grocery bag. “Come on, we’re on vacation!”

Before anyone could protest, he was already handing them out to Harry and Louis, and making a joking point not to give one to Zayn by shaking his finger.

“I don’t like beer, anyway,” Zayn said, his voice pouty. To make it up to him, Liam tried to plant a playful kiss on his cheek, but still proceed to crack open his can.

“This country sounds pretty loose with its rules. I hear you can buy guns in the same store you can buy groceries in,” Louis commented as he took his first gulp. Harry only sipped at his can. He liked how cold it felt in his hands when it was so hot outside, but already knew he wasn’t a fan of the taste.

“More like loose with its morals,” Zayn said dryly.

Another hour passed as they finished their beers and tried to make the conversation last. Harry left his about half full still, but it was warm by now, anyway, and at least he tried to finish it.

Hunger had become the main concern by the time they reached Barstow, a small town just north of Los Angeles. The gas station beef jerky and pretzels weren’t cutting it anymore. They were getting cranky and needed real food. And in this case, real food meant the burger drive-thru right next to the highway.

Liam took another two beers from the plastic rings for him and Louis. He offered Harry another as well, but he politely declined.

“Should we make this easy and just say four burgers and four orders of fries?” Zayn asked when there was only one car at the speaker in front of them.

“And an order of chicken nuggets,” Louis added. “With sweet and sour sauce.”

“Oh, that milkshake looks good,” Harry said, pointing to the advertisement with Oreos all over it.

“Alright, four burgers, four fries, and order of chicken nuggets, and an Oreo milkshake. Is that all?”

“Get Cokes for everyone as well,” Liam said while Zayn hit the gas to move forward.

“Alright, are we settled then?” he asked, slightly more annoyed.

“No cheese on mine, please!” added Harry.

“Yes, that should be good,” confirmed Liam.

“Hi, we’ll get four orders of…” Zayn began to recite to the speaker as he scratched his neck absentmindedly, making sure he didn’t forget anything.

“And my sweet and sour sauce!” Louis shouted from the backseat. Zayn was starting to feel like the mother to three children.

“Is that everything?” the woman asked through the speaker once she got it all typed into the computer.

“God, I hope so,” Zayn mumbled, then thanked her before pulling forward to the window to pay.

The cashier waiting there opened her window and greeted them with a smile. She read Zayn back the price and handed him the debit machine so he could pay. While he was doing so, Liam continued to sip on his beer and noticed the girl giving him a strange look.

“We thought it was crazy that open alcohol in vehicles is legal here,” Liam said amusedly. “We just had to take advantage of it.”

Zayn yanked his card out of the reader and handed it back to the girl, not bothering to pay attention to Liam.

“Who told you that you can do that? I don’t think that’s legal anywhere. Maybe the south, but not here,” she said, almost laughing.

“Really? But I read-”

“I can guarantee that it’s not,” she promised. “Would you like your receipt?”

In the back seat, Harry and Louis looked at each other with that same glance that was mixed with confusion and concern. Feeling instantly guilty, Harry tried to hide his warm can between his seat and the door. In a different attempt, Louis began chugging the rest of his so it was gone.

“Told ‘ya,” Zayn said, not bothering to hide his satisfaction.

Liam grimaced. “Whoops.”

Before finishing off the last leg of their trip, Zayn pulled into a parking space so they could eat their food. Louis dug right into his chicken nuggets, barely touching at the burger. He even told Liam he could have it, if he wanted. Harry took one sip of that delicious looking Oreo milkshake and instantly made a face, realizing he didn’t like it. His first instinct was to hand it off to Louis, who took it without a second thought and drank it casually.

Liam drank the rest of the beer, but sheepishly decided he’d save the other one for when they got to their destination. He wasn’t afraid to admit he was wrong, but that didn’t save himself from the bit of embarrassment. At least they didn’t get pulled over, and now they had a great story.

From the driver’s seat, Zayn ate quietly, realizing that maybe it was the grumbling in his stomach that was making him grumpy. He wasn’t normally one for fast food, but this hit just the right spot.

It had been seven hours in the car and they were getting tired, but there were only two more to go. Next stop: Las Vegas, Nevada.

~~5\. Go on a road trip.~~


	7. 6. Try every type of liquor.

The first thing Harry noticed about Las Vegas was the people. How diverse they were compared to back home, the way they were eccentrically dressed, and the vast numbers of them that crowded the streets. Every season was tourist season in Vegas, but summer was the peak. It wasn’t quite nighttime yet, but the party atmosphere as they passed the strip was in full gear. This was definitely a lively city.

The hotel that Liam and Zayn had booked wasn’t Caesar’s Palace or The Bellagio, but it was pretty damn close. They claimed to have got a great deal on the room, but only had it booked for two nights. Regardless, it was a resort, and they were going to make those two nights the best damn nights of their lives.

Handing off the station wagon to the valet didn’t exactly feel right, especially with the look that they got from the employee, but Zayn dropped the keys off anyway. They wouldn’t need to be seeing those for the next few days.

With bags in hand, politely refusing any help from the bellboy, the four of them strolled through the grand lobby with bright white lights and intricate ceiling designs. The way the lighting hit the floors and walls made them look almost gold. People were scattered around the large room, some sitting in the groupings of chairs, others laughing with friends as they strolled towards the pool and patio. At the front desk a woman in a neat black blazer and high ponytail greeted them with a kind smile.

“Welcome. How can I help you today?”

“We should have a reservation under Payne,” Liam told the woman. “And we were just wondering if we could add another two people to the room as well? There should be two queen sized beds, anyway.”

“That’ll be no problem.”

She began typing on her computer while Harry and Louis hung back, viewing the lobby with amazement. Even just around the corner there was a casino where they could see waiters serving drinks right to the people playing.

“Are you four here for any special occasion? Bachelor party?” The woman asked, mostly to make conversation.

“Actually, it’s these two here’s anniversary,” Zayn pointed out, waving a thumb between Harry and Louis.

“Really? How long have you been together?”

“Two years,” Harry said, just as Louis blurted, “Four years.”

They both glanced wide-eyed at each other, and Zayn gave them an extra confused look. Luckily, Louis was quick to the save.

“We’ve known each other four years, but have been dating for two now,” he said casually, stepping closer to Harry and putting an arm around his waist, purely for effect.

“Well, I’ll see what I can do about a room upgrade then. No extra charge, of course,” she smiled once more and began typing again.

“Wow, thank you!” Louis said, and Harry was starting to find that maybe there were more perks to this whole fake-relationship thing than he originally thought.

Once all of the papers had been signed, the woman sent them off with four card keys, instructions on how to the get to their room on one of the highest floors, and the wishes of a happy anniversary to Anthony and Russell.

Of the twenty-eight floors in the hotel, their room was on floor twenty-seven. The woman at the desk promised it was a luxury suite with two bedrooms so each couple would have their own privacy. Yep, two rooms, two beds, one couple, and two other guys who definitely did not think this far in advance.

Liam swiped the key card and opened the door to what looked more like a penthouse apartment than a hotel room. There was a living space underneath a chandelier that displayed expensive-looking black leather furniture. Off to one end was a full kitchen with a dining table and breakfast bar. And speaking of bar, there was even one stocked with snacks and alcohol in the opposite corner. The bedrooms were on opposite sides of the suite instead of side by side, and considering how wild Liam and Zayn seemed just based on the limited time they’ve been in contact, Harry was thankful for that.

“Which room do you two want?” Liam asked. They were all still loitering around the entryway, taking in their surroundings.

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry shrugged.

“You can have the bigger one, then. Your anniversary and all,” Zayn told them with a smile.

“Oh, but you guys made the reservation so you should really-”

“We insist,” Liam added. When he looked to Louis for help, he was just as clueless as to what to say as Harry was.

“That’s kind of you,” Louis settled on since it was easier than disputing. “We’ll just freshen up then we can all decide what we’re doing for the rest of the night, yeah?”

Without waiting for an answer, Louis pulled Harry by his wrist into the larger room and closed the door behind them. To Liam and Zayn it probably looked worthy of an eyebrow raise, but really they just needed to regroup.

“At what point do we start feeling guilty about all this?” Louis asked as he dropped his bag on the floor. Harry tossed his next to him on the bed as he sat down on it, folding one leg under him.

“Holy shit, did you feel how soft this bedding is? And the mattress is like a pillow itself,” Harry reveled as he collapsed backwards onto the duvet.

“Focus, Harry. What are we going to do?” he began pacing the room.

“How about we just enjoy Vegas for the next two nights with the people who were nice enough to give us a ride here?” Harry said blatantly. “And it’s not like we’re staying for free. I’m going to pay half the bill for the room.”

“But we’re lying to them!” Louis whisper-yelled.

“This was your idea to begin with,” Harry sat up. “You’re the one that introduced yourself as Russell.”

“Then you followed up with saying you were my _boyfriend_ named Anthony!”

“Which _you_ came up with on the plane!”

“Yeah, so that guy would stop hitting on me!”

“Okay, directing blame is getting us nowhere. We’re both responsible,” Harry sighed. Defeated, Louis turned towards the bathroom door and flicked on the light as he entered it.

“Woah, did you see the size of this tub?” Louis called when he saw the Jacuzzi bathtub that could probably fit three people in it.

Harry stood up from the bed and appeared in the doorway beside him.

“See, this place is great!” Harry exclaimed with his arms raised from his sides. “All we have to do is keep faking it for a couple more days, then we part ways to do the next thing on the list and say our goodbyes for good.”

“Liam has your phone number,” Louis reminded him.

“We live on different continents.”

Louis looked at him thoughtfully for a moment with a hand on his hip, then dropped his head as he tried to brush the hair out of his eyes. Harry just looked so sure of himself, but Louis’ confidence was lacking.

“Fine, but if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right,” Louis decided. He took a step back and slid himself onto the sink counter so he could sit down. Harry perched himself on the ledge of the bathtub across from him, ready to sort it all out. “First, the names.”

“Anthony and Russell, done. What’s next?”

“No, full names. Middle names don’t matter, but if you’re asked just come up with one on the spot. So I’m Russell Hammond, what’s Anthony’s last name.”

“Uhh…” Harry looked at either side of him to look for help. He wasn’t particular one for coming up with ideas on the spot. “Vega,” he finally decided.

“What’s that from?”

“Vincent Vega. Always liked _Pulp Fiction_. Sounds kind of cool, doesn’t it?”

“Anthony Vega,” Louis said out loud. “It does, actually, yeah.”

“Alright, what else do we need?”

“A story of how we met, for sure. We don’t need another fumble like that whole four years, two years thing.”

“You told them you used to work in a Starbucks, right? We’ll just say that’s how we met. I was one of your regulars.”

“So we’re going to say you got coffee from me for two years before we started dating?” Louis raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, we’ll say we developed a friendship then it became something more.”

“That’s not very realistic.”

“Is it as realistic as you almost shooting me while trying to fight a guy on the tube?”

“Accidentally!” Louis clarified. “But, okay, fair point. Fake coffee shop meeting, it is.” He tilted his head to think of what else they needed to sort out. “What about our current situation? Do we live together?”

“Yeah, how about we’ve lived together for three months in London and have a dog.”

Louis shook his head, “The dog is too much detail. Then it requires a name and a breed and it’s just too much to remember. How about we-”

His suggestion was cut off by a knocking at the door. They both froze to a dead silence, hoping to God neither of the other two heard the conversation.

“Anthony? Russell?” It was Liam’s voice. “Sorry to interrupt, but the hotel wants to know if they can send champagne up to the room for you to celebrate. Should I say yes?”

“Yeah, sure!” Harry shouted back. “We’ll be out in a minute!”

“Alright,” Louis leaned forward, bringing the attention back to the room. “We should be good. If we have to make something up on the spot, whoever scratches their nose will come up with the answer. It’s like an improv game, just don’t say no to anything.”

“Don’t say no, got it.”

“Good,” Louis affirmed, hopping down from the counter. “Now let’s just try not to fuck this up.”

Back out in the living area, the four of them were discussing plans for the rest of the evening. It was already almost nine o’clock and as much as they wanted to go out to clubs and drink on the strip, they had to admit that it was probably going to end up being an early night. For now, all they could think about was getting something to eat and going to bed.

They picked a restaurant a few blocks down that seemed reasonably-priced enough, and ate so fast that they were out of there in just over an hour. On the walk back to the hotel, they ensured to pass The Bellagio solely for the purpose of seeing the famous fountain light show. Since Zayn and Liam walked hand in hand, they tried to do the same as their personas of Russell and Anthony. At first it started awkward, then Louis started jokingly swinging their hands back and forth just to make Harry laugh and it sort of became natural.

“So what’s the next item on that list of yours, _Anthony Vega_ ,” Louis drawled the name. They were far enough behind that Zayn and Liam wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Well, _Russell Hammond,_ let’s take a look, shall we?”

He pulled the list from his pocket and shook it open with one hand. “Try every type of liquor,” he read out. “Maybe save that for tomorrow night.”

“I thought the purpose of this list was about living, not dying,” Louis laughed.

“Okay, maybe not _every_ type, but a lot of them.”

“You’re going to have the worst hangover after all that mixing. But when in Vegas…”

“Behave like a borderline alcoholic?”

“Isn’t that what this place is known for?”

“Harry? Is that you?” Harry heard a voice adjacent to him and turned his head. Then turned it again to make sure he wasn’t spotted responding to a name other than Anthony. The voice was not American, probably because he didn’t even know anyone from America before this trip. The face that matched the voice, however, couldn’t’ve left him more confused.

“Niall? What are you doing here?” He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, then Niall moved closer to his side to get out of the way.

“Just enjoying a weekend away. Actually, you gave me the idea to take the trip. That whole bucket list you told me about reminded me how bored I was getting back home. So Vegas, it was,” he raised his arms to gesture to his surroundings. “I had no idea you’d be here as well. This is wild.”

“I didn’t know either. And it’s actually called the Fuc-”

“So who’s this?” Niall asked, glancing strangely at Louis. “I didn’t know you were with anyone.” Only then did Harry realize that his hand was still linked in Louis’. He dropped it right away, Louis looking mildly offended.

“Oh, no. This is just- It’s a long story.”

“I’m Russell,” Louis extended his rejected hand to introduce himself.

“Actually, his name is Louis,” Harry said, then turned to Louis. “Not again,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“Then who’s-?”

“It’s part of the long story. Anyway, so who are you here with?”

“Just myself. Met a lot of interesting people that way,” Niall grinned like he made a joke, even when nothing was funny.

“You should come hang out with us tomorrow night, then!” Harry offered. He looked to Louis for affirmation, but instead he was making a hand waving gesture below his chin as if to say no. “What, why not?” Harry asked, taken aback. Niall only looked slightly offended.

“Well, because- Okay, we’re going by Anthony and Russell to the people we’re here with and they think we’re a couple. It’s a long, stupid, explanation, but if you’re coming, you’ve gotta stick with the story. And say we just met you and invited you along, we don’t have time for backstory.”

Harry couldn’t imagine the kind of first impression Niall was getting of Louis right now.

“Uh, okay…”

Ahead of them, Liam and Zayn were turned around and waving them ahead to catch up. To part ways with Niall before the other two took it upon themselves to join the conversation, Harry grabbed Louis’ hand again.

“I’ll text you later to fill you in on the details. See you tomorrow!” he waved as they began walking away. Harry could already tell this was about to be a mess.

 

If there was anything Louis learned so far on this trip, it was that he spent too much of his life taking advantage of his freely given personal space. Because it seemed like now, in that last three days, he and Harry hadn’t left each other’s side, have basically seen each other naked, and now had to share a queen sized bed across the way from two people who thought they were a couple. Specifically, a couple who should probably have full-on heart eyes for each other since it’s their two year anniversary.

So, with that said, simply sharing a bed with Harry was the least of Louis’ problems. It was all part of the act, and they were getting quite good at their roles. Anthony Vega was free-spirited and adventurous and full of life – everything Harry wanted to be. Russell Hammond was a leader and creative and rather quick-witted – all things Louis wasn’t even aware he was.

The night grew on and as soon as Russell and Anthony crossed the threshold of their bedroom, they were back to Louis and Harry. And really, those two weren’t that different.

While Harry stood over the sink in the bathroom, brushing his teeth with the door open, Louis had already picked his side of the bed and had the blanket pulled up to his neck. He was turned towards the wall while he scrolled through his phone, waiting for it to finish charging so he could unplug it and flip to his other side.

“Did you text your friend yet? What was his name again?”

“Eh di’, ah,” Harry mumbled, his mouth full of toothpaste.

Louis peaked his head over his shoulder, “What?”

Harry rinsed his mouth out with water then grabbed a hand towel off the rack next to him to dry off.

“I said, I did, yeah. And his name is Niall. I summarized the story, then told him as long as he gets the names right and remembers that we’re supposed to be together, then we should be good.”

“He’s not going to fuck it all up if he gets drunk, is he?”

“I’ve gone for a night out with him once and, honestly, he’s the most responsible drunk I know.”

Harry flicked the light off in the bathroom and entered the bedroom again, illuminated only by the two lamps on the night table. The light from Louis’ phone was reflecting on his glasses that Harry only learned today that he wore when he didn’t have contacts in.

“Can I ask you a question?” Harry said as he pulled back the blankets on his side of the bed and sat with his back against the pillows.

Louis clicked off his phone and placed it on the table next to him, tucking his arms back unto the warmth. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“So, Elijah,” Harry began slowly, “You said he was your first boyfriend?”

“No, I said he was my first love. We never dated.”

“You didn’t?” Harry looked confused.

“Well, not officially. We were close friends all through school, then on the tour we only had each other that was familiar so we clung to that. Then we started fooling around and we got that place together and it was like we were everything except boyfriends. So I confronted him about it one day, he told me he wasn’t anything but straight and we were just having fun, and then he left.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, mostly because he didn’t know what else he could say.

“It was a long time ago,” Louis was looking up at the ceiling and Harry was trying not to stare too hard at him. “We were just kids.”

“I get that. It’s hard when you grow up together, because then you also grow apart.”

“Sometimes it works out great, though. My grandparents met when they were fifteen and seventeen and stayed together their entire lives. Greatest example of love I’ve ever seen.”

“Some people are just lucky then, I guess.”

Harry turned off the switch on his light, only realizing then that Louis had done the same prior. They were now lying in darkness, and Harry could feel his eyes getting heavy.

“Maybe the rest of us just had to figure out who we were before we could let someone else do the same,” Louis said, a little quieter.

Harry rolled onto his side and let out a yawn while mumbling, “How introspective of you.”

Silence began to fill the darkness and Harry was starting to drift off. The soft and cushiony bedding around him felt like a hug. A good night’s sleep after the full day of travelling was long awaited. That was until a repetitive squeaking began, seeming to come from another room.

“Do you hear that?” Louis asked, echoing his thoughts.

“You don’t think that they’re…”

Louis lifted his head to listen closer. The squeaking was now followed by intense breathing and moaning.

“Oh my God,” Harry groaned, pulling a pillow up to cover his ears.

“How do they even have the energy?” Louis wondered, collapsing onto his back.

“I thought the rooms being so far away was going to solve this problem,” Harry turned onto his back as well, still keeping the pillow bunched up.

The sounds were getting louder and faster. “Did these rooms come with ear plugs?” Harry asked, pulling open the drawer next to him and feeling around.

“Who do you think is the bottom?” Louis joked, because clearly the only option now was to wait until it was over and hope that they could sleep after what they just had to hear.

“I don’t want to know,” Harry grumbled.

“I’m just saying, if you had to guess.”

“I’m not going to guess.”

The annoyance in Harry’s voice just made Louis want to continue.

“What are _you_?” Louis asked in a quizzical tone.

“Tired,” Harry responded flatly.

“I’m just saying, it sounds like Zayn is probably-”

“I’m about to smother you with this pillow,” Harry threatened, lifting the one he was using to muffle the sounds.

Just then, the squeaking finally stopped and the heavy breathing faded away. They both froze to listen, ensuring that it was really over. The silence hung in the air for a few moments.

“Thank God,” exclaimed Harry, flipping back to his stomach and ready to sleep for real.

“I hope they at least had fun,” Louis sighed dramatically.

Harry only had enough energy to say one last thing. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

 

In the late afternoon the next day, after most of it was spent sipping cocktails next to the pool, the five of them sat at a round booth in the hotel bar with drinks in hand and an empty plate of chips and salsa between them. The introductions between Niall and Zayn and Liam were over quickly since the two of them were happy with any new friends they met along their adventure. Niall and Liam even seemed to bond right away over their shared love of a type of beer that Harry didn’t know or care much about.

What first started as drinking and trading jokes, turned into three sets of eyes looking strangely at Harry, and Louis fishing into the camera bag he brought along to capture the moment.

“So you want to try every type of liquor?” Niall raised an eyebrow.

Harry only shrugged, not really understanding why this was so shocking to all of them. Next to him, Louis was making sure to get close ups on all their reactions.

“Dude, I don’t think you realize how many types there actually are,” Liam said. “Can you even name more than, like, ten?”

“Vodka, tequila, whiskey, rum,” Harry counted on his fingers.

“Gin, brandy, absinthe,” Louis continued, also counting on Harry’s fingers, just because they were already there and his other hand was busy holding the camera up. He met Louis’ stare as they both tried to think of more, but eventually sighed and dropped his hands in defeat.

“Okay, maybe I can’t, but it doesn’t have to be so literal. Even those, I don’t think I’ve tried most of. Let’s just say I want to try a _variety_ of alcohol, yeah?” he looked around for approval.

“Alright,” Zayn said, tapping a finger against his glass. “If we do this, we take care of each other. Don’t let anyone get their drunk ass lost on the street or leave them passed out.”

“Wait, we’re _all_ doing this?” Liam questioned. “But this is Anthony’s list.”

“Yeah, you guys don’t have to,” Harry assured. Across the way, Louis was getting a close up on Niall’s face, who looked amused about the whole situation.

“It’d be fun though, wouldn’t it?” Zayn’s eyes lit up even though his posture remained slouched.

“He has a point,” Louis said. Now all four sets of eyes could be seen in the frame. “Plus, if you’re going to have a night full of destroying your liver, might as well do it while you’re still young and your body can take it.”

“Well, I’m in,” Niall announced, downing the rest of his drink like he was preparing himself.

“So am I,” said Zayn.

“That just leaves you, Liam. Your choice,” Louis turned the camera to him and he was looking down at the table to consider it.

“This isn’t high school, no one’s gonna pressure you,” Zayn said, rubbing a hand lightly on his back. “But just know that if you don’t, you’re going to end up trying to take care of four drunk grown men.”

Liam laughed, then let out an exasperated sigh. The camera panned out to show all four of them, excluding Louis only because he was holding it.

“Fine, I guess I’m in.”

In celebration, everyone raised their glasses in cheers to an impending night of forgotten memories.

 

The first sense that Harry could register as he faded back into consciousness was the feeling of a sharp knife jabbing into his temple. When he tried to bring his hand up to feel if there was anything there causing the intense pain, that was when he realized he had not been sleeping on the couch, but rather, beside it. At first he wondered if he might’ve hit his head on something, but when he tried to open his eyes and the blinding sunlight found its way in, the throbbing only intensified. No, this was no stab wound. This was a hangover.

Harry tried to keep his eyes shielded with the palm of his hand as he moved into a sitting position on the floor. The dizzying feeling was starting to hit him, but he slowly peeled his eyes open and tried squinting. On the couch opposite of him, Harry noticed a sleeping figure in the shape of Zayn with a blanket thrown over him. Lucky him, Harry thought. At least he didn’t end up passed out on the hard floor.

As he stood up, his muscles and joints ached and cracked. He slowly glanced around the hotel room that was now destroyed. Cushions were torn off furniture, bottles and cans littered every surface, garbage and food crumbs had fallen to the floor, liquid had been spilled on the carpet, and more than a few clothes garments had ended up strung around the place. It looked like a frat house at the end of spring break.

“Man, wake up,” Harry mumbled to Zayn as he looked around tiredly. His mouth was so dry he felt like he could drink about four litres of water in one go. “Where are the others?”

Zayn groaned in response, but Harry thought he heard “I don’t know,” somewhere in all of that.

Glancing to the side turned out to answer his own question. With the door wide open, Louis and Liam seemed to have fallen asleep on the bed Liam and Zayn initially shared. They were on top of the blankets and fully dressed in what they were wearing the night before, but only Liam was in a normal position. Louis, on the other hand, was spread out on the foot of the bed like a dog trying to sleep with its humans.

Harry needed water. That was the top of his current list of priorities. And he needed to use the toilet, obviously, since he probably drank about half the bar last night. Not that he would actually know. At the moment, he couldn’t remember anything about last night from the time they left the restaurant.

Trudging through the mess towards the kitchen, Harry took a glass from the cupboard and filled it to the rim with water. He downed it all in one go and filled it up again. Okay, now he _really_ had to use the toilet.

As he washed his hands afterwards, Harry only looked briefly in the mirror of him and Louis’ bathroom. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and his hair was a little askew, but overall he didn’t look horrible. Bad, but not horrible. When he flicked the light off again, Zayn was next to follow in the hangover-recovery routine.

“What even happened last night?” Harry asked, leaning against the counter across from him.

“I honestly don’t have any idea,” Zayn said with wide eyes, shaking his head. “Is there any Advil around here?”

“Next to the fridge,” Harry pointed to a bottle Liam had taken out last night when he decided to unpack like they were moving in.

While Zayn continued to chug water, Harry crossed the living room back to where Liam and Louis ended up. Both were still out cold, so Harry tried knocking on the door frame to wake them up. Louis was the first to stir as he turned his body to rest on the other side.

“Lou-” Harry began, but caught himself before the wrong name slipped out. He glanced back towards Zayn to make sure he didn’t catch that. “Russell? Are you up?”

Louis groaned out a yawn while he stretched his arms out in front of him. “Where are we?” He asked, voice raspy both from just waking up, and the probable cotton mouth.

“Still the hotel,” Harry said. “Do you remember much from last night?”

“We were at the hotel bar, then we went to the casino because Niall wanted to show me how to play craps and we won a couple hundred in chips,” Louis recalled slowly, “but besides that I don’t have a damn clue.”

Louis turned to his back and rubbed his hands over his face, only then realizing that Liam was perpendicular to him, but also not caring.

“Wait, your hand,” Harry said. “You have stamps.”

Harry glanced at the back of his own hand as well where neon logos littered it.

“I guess we went to a couple clubs too, then.”

Just as Louis began to sit up, Liam sprung up next to him with a pale face and wide eyes, then raced to the bathroom. Harry and Louis watched as he ran with his hands clutched to his stomach. When the door slammed behind him, the heaves into the toilet began.

“Zayn,” Louis said, catching his eye through the crack between Harry and doorway. “I think you need to collect your man,” he pointed at the bathroom.

“Is he alright?” asked Zayn as he appeared next to Harry.

“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s probably just throwing up those last few drinks,” Harry told him as the heaving continued audibly in the background. “Or maybe all of the drinks.”

“I’ll grab him some water.”

As Zayn left the room once more, Louis got up properly to walk past Harry and towards the couch. In doing so, he mumbled something about not being able to stand hearing those noises anymore or he’d start puking next. Harry offered to fill a cup of water for him also and brought the whole bottle of Advil back to the couch, unsure if Louis was the type to take one with the confidence it would work, or two just to be safe. Instead, he popped three into his mouth, adding an extra for good measure.

Soon enough, Zayn was following an exhausted looking Liam out into the sitting area as well. The unsaid plan was to basically regroup and figure out what the fuck happened last night. And maybe decide what to-

Wait a second…

“Where’s Niall?” Harry asked, the first the verbally acknowledge the fact that their group of five had now dropped to four.

“Did he not come back to the room with us?” Zayn said, looking around the open space in case he found him passed out in a corner.

“He’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Louis assured. “I’ll check the bathrooms and bedrooms.”

“I’ll call his phone,” Harry announced, digging his phone out of his pocket. Thankfully, it never left his side. Or, at least, still ended up at his side.

The line rang a few times, but the other end was never picked up. Harry tried a second time and left a message just as Louis returned with Zayn from their co-search of the hotel room. Liam stayed put the entire time, looking like he was ready to doze off again. Or maybe make another run for the bathroom.

“Any luck?” Louis asked, and Harry shook his head before repeating the question and only gaining the same response.

“This is like the movie,” Liam finally said, laughing as he sort of stared off into space with his head resting on his propped up arm. “ _The Hangover_ , right? I think that’s what it’s called.”

“Are you saying we should check the roof?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“There’s no way to get to the roof,” Zayn said while they crowded around the coffee table again. “I already thought of that.”

“Then there’s only one thing left to do,” Louis announced. “Everyone empty your pockets.”

Clearing a spot on the coffee table, the four of them fished into their jeans to pull out anything they could find and dump it on the surface. Phones, coins, casino chips, receipts, credit cards, and card keys for the room all fell into a pile on the table. Louis picked up the receipts first to see if they could back track, but they were only from the restaurants earlier in the day. They all checked their own phones for messages – except Zayn, who didn’t have one because of his claims that the internet and social media “drain the soul” – but no one had anything of importance.

“Who had these?” Liam asked, picking up the two cheap metal rings in the pile of evidence. He examined the fake plastic jewels in them closely.

“I had one,” Louis said nonchalantly as he continued scrolling through possible missed calls and messages.

“So did I,” Harry added, glancing up at the others.

“Did you have them before last night?” asked Zayn while looking curiously between them.

“No,” Louis scoffed. “Why would I carry around a cheap plastic ring?”

Liam and Zayn exchanged a look that was both knowing, and concerned. Instead of jumping to conclusions, Liam just said, “Where do you think you got them?”

“Probably for free somewhere, or maybe we found them,” Harry said quickly. Because, really, that’s what it had to be. No other conclusion could possibly make sense.

“I don’t want to worry anyone,” Zayn began, “but you don’t think-”

“Where’s my list?” Harry asked around, searching frantically through his pockets and the pile in front of them when he realized it hadn’t been removed with the rest of his belongings. “Does anyone have it?” Louis wasn’t paying attention, but Zayn and Liam checked their pockets once more and shook their heads.

“Fuck, we have to be out of here in fifteen minutes or they’ll charge us for another night,” Louis suddenly exclaimed once he realize the time on his phone.

With a burst of energy, the four of them jumped up and scrambled to get everything back into their bags. There was no time to clean, but thankfully they were light packers and left most things in the car. Harry spent most of the little time they had scouring the room to see if his list was anywhere in sight. Sure he had the items memorized at this point, but it was a symbol of his new outlook on life. Or at least, his decision to stop giving a fuck.

“Has anyone seen the camera?” Louis yelled as he darted across the kitchen with his unzipped bag in one hand and his denim jacket in the other.

“You lost the camera?!” Harry exclaimed from where he was giving up trying to fold his clothes on the bed.

“We don’t have time!” Liam shouted from the other bedroom. “If it’s here, the hotel will call us and say we forgot it.”

With only minutes to spare, the four were finally piled into the elevator back down to the main floor. As soon at the doors opened, Harry and Liam sprinted across the lobby to the front desk. Really, a few extra minutes probably meant nothing to the hotel, but to them that deadline felt like it was set in stone.

It took some convincing, but Liam finally let Harry pay for a portion of their two-night stay. Not a full half, but enough that Harry felt less guilty about everything those two had done for them since they met.

As Liam finished signing the final papers, and leaving an extra tip to go to the housekeeping staff for the absolute disaster they created, Louis and Harry were leaning on the counter next to them, Louis using Harry’s upper arm as a pillow because his own headache was still present. The unoccupied woman at the computer just next to them smiled when she noticed them. Harry smiled back awkwardly, which was enough for her to offer an explanation.

“You’re the couple that was celebrating their two-year anniversary, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, we are,” Louis confirmed.

“One of the receptionists from last night told us about the wedding. Congratulations!”

“Oh, no, it’s not our wedding anniversary,” Harry laughed. “We aren’t even engaged.”

“No, last night was when you-” she started, then followed it by, “Oh, no…”

Louis took a step back to share in the shocking exchange of glances with Harry. Both of their jaws were dropped, then they looked at Zayn and Liam behind them to see if they had overheard the conversation. The two of them wore matching grimaces and Harry’s brain went into full panic mode. The lost memory, the rings, that fact that they were in Vegas and there was practically a chapel at every corner. _No no no no no no no no_ , this could _not_ be happening.

“I didn’t want to say anything, but we were both thinking it,” Zayn told them.

“We’re _married_?” Harry exclaimed, a little louder than he intended to. Other guests turned their heads to look at them, but Harry really couldn’t care about causing a scene because this was a crisis.

“Excuse us,” Liam said to the receptionist, and he and Zayn led them to a set of vacant leather couches in a more secluded part of the lobby. Harry was close to pulling out his hair and Louis’ face was blank and looking pale.

“We can’t be married!” Harry let out again while Zayn tried to sit him down. Liam joined Zayn’s side of the couch while Louis paced in front of them.

“Well, it’s not ideal, but you have been together two years, right?” Liam assured. “You were probably going to get married at some point anyway.”

“Or you could get in annulled,” Zayn suggested. “If you weren’t in the right state of mind…”

“I don’t know if you can do that if you live with the person,” Liam turned his head over his shoulder to say. Harry collapsed backward onto the couch and stared at the ceiling, the word _annulment_ circling his thoughts as he tried to collect them.

“Right, because they are technically together so-”

“We aren’t together!” Louis burst, throwing his hands in the air. “Russell and Anthony aren’t even our real names. I’m Louis and he’s Harry.” He put a hand to his forehead as he spoke with exhaustion in his voice. “We met each other, officially, about five days ago, and he hired me to film this documentary about him completing that list.”

“Wait, what?” Liam shook his head in shock, looking to Zayn whose expression was a mirror image.

“The fake names were just an inside joke that went too far. We thought if we told you our real names at this point that you’d be offended about us lying to you,” Harry continued, realizing they had to give into defeat at this point. He had an arm swung over his forehead, partly to block the bright lights, and partly because he had too much happening in his brain.

“We are sorry,” Louis said. “Everything else was true, just not our names and the relationship.”

“Well, that’s…” Zayn trailed off.

“Surprising,” Liam finished. “You guys sold it really well. I’m honestly a little impressed,” he laughed.”

Louis sat down in the seat behind him and held his own cheeks in his hands, “You are?”

“Yeah, I mean, we can’t really be mad at you for giving us fake names when we had no entitlement to know your real ones. You can present yourselves in whatever way you want,” Zayn spoke thoughtfully.

“And these last few days have definitely been the most eventful, so far.”

“Are we cool then?” Louis looked between them.

“We’re cool, yeah,” Liam nodded. “So Louis,” he pointed at Louis, then to Harry, “and Harry, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Okay, we’ll try to remember that. But for now, let’s get to the task at hand,” Liam leaned forward in his seat to lay out the plan. “We need to try to find Niall and figure out what the hell happened last night, and see if you two are actually married, because there’s a chance nothing was done legally.”

“So where do we start?” asked Zayn.

“Look at your hands,” Louis instructed. Everyone put their fists out to check the backs, except Harry who looked at his palm first, then sheepishly switched when he caught onto what everyone else was doing.

“The stamps,” Liam observed.

Soon enough they were walking through the doors of a club, matching the logo on their stamps to one nearby via Google. The building was pretty empty in the early afternoon, but they still approached the bartender as he was cleaning glasses to get ready for that night. He was largely built and bald, but had a friendly enough face that would still get him tips.

“Yeah, I remember you guys. You lost a bet that you made with the little one,” he said to Liam, pointing to Louis. The four of them were crowded near the stools as they pressed for answers.

“What do you mean litt-” Louis tried to say, but Harry nudged him before he could finish. That was really not the priority right now.

“What was the bet?” Harry asked.

“You other two wanted to see who could drink five shots faster between yourselves, so they bet on you guys. You lost,” he pointed to Zayn, “So the little one made you,” he then pointed to Liam, “get a tattoo as punishment.”

“I have a name,” Louis said, offended.

Liam’s eyes went wide, “I got a tattoo? Where?”

“Apparently. You asked me where the closest parlour was and I sent you to that place called Bombshell a few blocks over.”

“Oh, God,” Liam dropped his head.

“Babe, it’s not like you didn’t have some already,” Zayn said, putting an arm over his shoulders as he sulked. “What’s one more?”

“Alright, thanks for your help!” Harry told the bartender, then urged the rest of them to go so they could move on and solve the rest of this mystery from the last night.

So maybe trying a bunch of alcohol in one night wasn’t a very good idea, Harry thought as they exited the doors. Now they knew.

The tattoo parlour was small and only had two different rooms. One for the waiting area and main desk, and the other with stations to actually get the tattoos done. The walls were covered floor-to-ceiling in art and photographs from past tattoos. Zayn and Harry were walking around and examining them intently while Louis and Liam tried to get answers. Harry had never got a tattoo, but he always found the idea intriguing.

“You mean you really didn’t wake up and wonder why your ass felt sore?” The tattoo artist was on her lunch break when they walked in. She had a half-eaten sandwich on her lap and a travel mug of coffee on the table next to her. Watercolour and Disney seemed to mean the theme she went with on her own tattoos.

“Honestly, I still don’t even think I’m sober and alcohol is a great pain medication,” Liam sighed. He pulled his pants a little further down and looked again in the mirror at Zayn’s name that was now on the top of his left ass cheek, a faint hue of red surrounding it from the fresh wound.

“You did a good job, at least,” Louis commented to the artist.

“Should I get your name to match?” Zayn asked from across the room he was wandering around, only half joking.

“Did we say where we were going next?” Louis asked with his arms crossed.

“No, but I saw you guys cross the street to Patty’s diner. Someone there might have more information.”

“Thanks, we’ll check there,” Louis said, signalling for the others so they could leave by waving a hand. They didn’t have time to chat or hang around, and definitely not to get another tattoo. They had a friend to find.

“Hey, didn’t something like this happen in that Bradly Cooper movie?” She asked just before they left.

“We already thought to check the roof,” said Harry, the last one to leave the shop.

“Well, good luck finding your friend!”

While the four of them crossed the street, determination was high, but confidence was minimal. For all they knew, Niall somehow crossed the border with drug smugglers or found himself involved with the mob. At this point, he could be anywhere. Not to mention both the camera and the Fuck-It List were lost, and Harry and Louis were going to have to get their apparent marriage annulled.

As Harry walked behind the others, he started to wonder whether this was all even worth it. If he should really have quit his job and used up some of his savings just to have ten days of being reckless. What was he even trying to prove? That he wasn’t boring? That his life had a purpose? Yeah, like getting drunk beyond memory in Vegas proves a purpose.

“Hey,” Louis softly, stopping for a moment to let Harry catch up. “Don’t worry, we’re going to find everything. And Niall can’t have gone far.”

“I guess,” Harry shrugged.

“Is everything okay? Is it because we might be married? To be honest, I think I’ll make a great husband,” Louis joked. “Just saying.”

“No,” Harry laughed before taking a deep breath “I just- I’m starting to wonder if all of this was really a good idea. I mean, what’s the point in it all? Why am I doing this?”

“I thought it was all about really _living_ your life,” Louis said, emphasizing the word with a clenched fist.

“But is that what I’m doing, or am I just being stupid and calling it an adventure?”

“Well, I’d say living is about making terrible choices, fucking up, learning, and, in return, gaining new experiences. And those are four things you’ve done in the last few days that you could definitely cross off. But really, who says there has to be a point? Make it about the story you’re gonna tell your kids one day, there’s your point. Let go of the logic of it. Tell me, Harry, do you believe in fate?”

“Um,” Harry looked down thoughtfully, “I’m not sure.”

“How about Newton’s Third Law? ‘Every action has an equal or opposite reaction.’ Its cause and effect. These were your decisions, this is how they played out. You can’t work against it, so might as well work with it. See where takes you before you settle on your regrets.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but ahead of them Zayn was shouting at them to catch up while he held open the door for the diner. They ran to reach them and followed Liam’s lead.

The diner was small and narrow with red booths on one end. Harry didn’t understand why it seemed like every late night diner had to have red coloured booths. Maybe along with lust and rage, red was the colour of drunken mistakes.

In the tiny lobby area, as they wandered around the space, Louis first noticed the two coin operated machines that were straight out of the 90s. One dispensed gumballs, the other plastic eggs that held small metal rings.

“Are those the same rings as the ones Harry and I had?” Louis asked, pointing at the machine. Since Liam was the one holding onto them, he dug them back out of his pocket and walked over to compare.

“Looks the same, yeah,” he said. Harry started laughing.

“What’s funny?” Zayn asked.

“Just imagining Louis getting down on one knee with that plastic egg as the ring box.”

“How do you know I was the one who proposed?” Louis defended. “You’re definitely more of the sappy type.”

“Actually, he proposed,” a waitress appeared behind the group, leaning a hand on the back rest of one of the seats, and pointing a long purple nail at Liam. She was well aged and spoke with a slight southern accent over smoker’s lungs. A red uniform and yellow apron hugged her large hips.

“Me?” Liam asked, dumfounded, pointing a finger at his chest.

“Please tell me I’m not married to Liam,” Louis closed his eyes and raised praying hands.

“That would explain why you woke up in the same bed,” Zayn remarked, and Liam put a hand out to lightly hit his stomach.

“Shouldn’t you be mad about this, if that’s the case? He’s your boyfriend,” said Harry.

“We believe in free love,” he said, voice too far from joking.

“Relax, ya’ll aren’t married,” the woman laughed. “I think you two are, though,” She waved a finger between Liam and Zayn.

“Oh thank God,” Louis exhaled the breath he was holding in. Harry couldn’t help but feel the same sense of relief. If Zayn and Liam were married, at least that made sense. They already behaved like that had been the case for years. If it weren’t for the lack of rings, he would’ve assumed they tied the knot long ago.

“Are you sure we got married?” Liam asked sternly, taking a step forward.

“Yep, you got down on one knee right here on this floor. This one even got all weepy just seein’ it,” her thumb was pointed at Harry. “Right after the marriage happened, you came runnin’ back here to tell us all. That’s when they took your friend away.”

“Wait, our friend was still with us?” Harry’s eyes widened and he turned abruptly to face her. “Who took him?”

“The cops, after they caught him taking a leak in the back alley. I told ‘im there was a bathroom, but he claimed outside was closer.”

“So he’s in jail?!” Louis exclaimed. Worried glances were exchanged all around.

“Drunk tank, I expect. They hold you ‘till you’re sober or wake up, so I assume he’s still there if you haven’t heard from ‘im yet.”

“We’ll check there next,” Harry said.

“You’ve been a great help,” Louis told her.

Within seconds they were out the door again and running back to the station wagon. Zayn took the driver’s spot and Liam pulled up a map on his phone to the police station. Harry never expected breaking his friend out of jail to be a result of this list, but, well, here he was.

~~6\. Try every type of liquor ( _kind of_ ).~~


	8. 7. Break the law.

Louis led the group into the police station, marching up to the desk with the other three behind him like a pack. If any of them was going to be the one to convince these cops to let Niall out, it would be him. He kept his expression confident and assertive.

“We’re here for our friend,” he said to the cop sitting there. He had white hair in a ring around his head and his cheeks sagged in their wrinkles as he stared at them blankly “His name is Niall Horan. What’s his bail?”

“Bail?” the cop asked, laughing when he said it. He brushed his hands off that were previously wrist-deep in a bag of chips. “That kid is in the drunk tank, there’s no bail. I’ll call for him.” He spun halfway around and picked the phone up to page somewhere else in the station.

Louis’ face softened to confusion and he took a half step back, “Oh, uh, okay.” He turned back around to face the others, who also had retreated their firm stances.

“Honestly, I thought that was going to be a lot harder,” Harry said, quiet enough so the guard couldn’t hear.

“I figured he was gonna have a court date and everything,” added Liam.

“Do you not get charged for pissing in public?” Zayn asked, rather blatantly.

“Shh!” Louis put a finger to his lips while they were stood in a loose huddle. The same officer was stood up from around the desk and held out a clear plastic bag.

“This was all with your friend when we took him in,” he said, pushing it against Louis’ chest then returning to his spot behind the desk.

Louis looked down at the bag then quickly exclaimed, “The camera!” He pulled it out and handed the rest to Liam who was across from him. Just as he hit the power button, Niall came strolling through the windowed double doors. Another cop that escorted him out held the door open for him, then disappeared back through it.

“Hey, guys!” he greeted quite cheerily for someone who just spent the night in jail.

“Hey, you alright, man?” Zayn asked as the four of them approached him. As Liam got closer, he held his hand out towards Niall with his wallet, sun glasses, and phone in it. He accepted them all gratefully.

“Yeah, just need a coffee, probably. That looks like a café over there,” he pointed through the window across the street as put on his sunglasses.

Louis exchanged looks with Harry and then Zayn while nodding, “Sure, let’s get you some coffee.”

The five of them sat at a four person booth, Niall at an extra chair at the head of the table. He and Liam were the only ones who bothered to order anything initially. The rest were more interested in hearing Niall recount everything from the night before. Somehow, he was the only one who managed to not seemingly drink himself into oblivion.

“Wait, so we won fifteen hundred American?” Louis asked in shock. He was sat in one of the two seats next to Niall with Harry across and Liam on the other side.

“Yeah, you were getting so good at blackjack they were going to start to think you were counting cards. That was after we played craps,” explained Niall.

“Sorry, but I just really need to know one thing,” Zayn piped up, clearing his throat. “Did Liam and I actually get married?”

“Oh, yeah, you did! Even made these two your best men,” he pointed a thumb each to Harry and Louis.

“Ohhhh,” Louis hummed, sliding his fingers across his chin. “That explains why Harry and I had the rings.”

“Did anyone take any pictures?” Harry asked, pointing to the camera Louis was holding. Niall gave him permission to film the explanation for the documentary. Well, he mostly just shrugged and said “Sure, I don’t care.”

“Actually,” Niall said, “I think so, yeah.”

Louis looked questioningly between the two of them, then back into the viewfinder. “So... should we look at them?”

Holding the camera out far enough in front of him so everyone could see, the other four huddled closely around him. He clicked the button for the camera roll and scrolled until he found the start of the photos from that night.

The first couple weren’t that bad considering the expectation was that they would be completely crazy. There were a lot of selfies from the bar and videos of people dancing. There was one with Louis holding the camera towards himself, Harry, and Niall, and yelling about how many drinks they had at that point. Right after that was a clip of them all walking on the street and Harry ripping a fabric sign off a fence to use it like wings as he ran down the side of the road. Another of them all in a parking lot with Niall on Zayn’s shoulders and Louis on Liam’s before they proceeded to race. Niall and Zayn won only because Liam tripped and Louis nearly fell on his face. Luckily, there were no injuries. Eventually they reached the wedding and most of the ceremony was recorded by Niall. And by ceremony, that meant about five minutes of an internet-ordained minister reading out declarations of marriage then the other three cheering as they kissed at the end.

So Liam and Zayn really were married. And they didn’t even remember the wedding. Huh.

“Well…” Liam began when they came to the end of the photos.

“Not as crazy as the movie,” Niall decided, sitting back in his seat with his arms crossed.

For a moment they sat quietly. Uncomfortably, even. Most eyes fell fleetingly on Liam and Zayn, trying to read their expressions and body language.

“I guess we’re married,” Zayn finally said, looking at Liam and placing a hand over his.

“I guess so,” Liam said. Nothing was spoken solemnly. Just more of an observation.

“Well, you do have Zayn’s name tattooed on your ass already,” Louis commented. “That’s not staying in Vegas.” Under the table, Harry kicked his shin and shot him a look.

“Should we think about a honeymoon, then?” Zayn suggested. His tone heightened slightly.

“Somewhere south, maybe? Mexico?”

“Or we could head north into Canada? Maybe see the rocky mountains?”

At that point, the other three couldn’t look more confused. The only evidence they had of this wedding was shitty footage that Niall got on a documentary camera. No rings, no exchanging of vows, no proper photos, not even their own memories. And now they just wanted to go on a honeymoon after all of that.

“You aren’t getting it annulled?” asked Niall.

“Why bother? We were probably going to get married, anyway,” Zayn said, looking at Liam.

“What happened to not believing in monogamy?” Louis said from behind the camera. He was back to filming all their interactions. This would definitely make for some good drama in the movie.

“Marriage doesn’t have to equal monogamy,” Liam pointed out. “But maybe we’ll read our vows on a beach somewhere or something. Like our own little private wedding.”

While Liam and Zayn started to get lost in their own world of honeymoon planning, Niall was struck with realization and dug into the pocket of his jeans. When he pulled his hand back out, he was holding a folded up piece of paper.

“Harry, I think this is yours,” Niall said, handing it over to him. “You gave it to me to hold onto while you and Louis were trying on best man suits for the wedding.”

“My list!” Harry exclaimed. He took it from Niall’s hand excitedly and unfolded it to make sure. Never before had he ever been so grateful to see those red scribble marks.

Behind the camera, Louis wore a relieved smile as he watched Harry grow in happiness. After thanking Niall for holding onto it, he met Louis’ eyes and the smile turned to soft and knowing. “See,” Louis mouthed the words so the mic wouldn’t pick it up, “I told you it would work out.”

Harry nodded, “No regrets yet.”

 

For the next hour, the five of them ate greasy diner food which they supposed would be their dinner. Harry had to admit, he was quite worried about how Liam and Zayn would react to the wedding news. That’s definitely one of the major parts of your life that you’d want to be special, and remember, at the very least. But even still, he didn’t think he’d ever seen them happier. They were smiling and giggly, and Zayn had his arm around Liam almost the whole time while Liam’s hand rested on his leg. For them, maybe it wasn’t so much about the paperwork and the legal stuff. They were just in love, and that’s what mattered.

So when dinner came to an end, Harry paid the bill without giving anyone a chance to protest. It was his tiny way of saying sorry for the night before because, even though they all agreed to it, it was definitely his fault for coming up with the idea. Harry wouldn’t be touching alcohol again for a long time, that was for sure.

Liam and Zayn happily drove the other three back to the hotel, but after they got out of the car they admitted that it was probably time to part ways. The human body was designed to only tolerate so long in Las Vegas.

“Well, thanks for the fun times,” Liam said through the driver’s side window. Zayn leaned forward in his seat next to him so he could see them.

“Thanks for letting us tag along on the drive,” Louis replied.

“And sorry you can’t remember getting married!” added Harry, a little sheepishly.

“You still have all those pictures, right?” Zayn asked. Harry nodded. “Send us a copy of that documentary when you’re done with it then, will ‘ya? You’ve got Liam’s number.”

Smiling, Harry said, “Sure, why not?”

Liam finally put the car in drive and the other three waved their last goodbyes, Niall shouting “See you guys! Good meeting you!” as they drove away. It’s funny how some people can be in your life for such a short period of time, but you already know the memory of them will probably stick with you forever. But now the three of them were alone, and Harry really didn’t know what to do next.

“So…” Niall began, looking between Louis and Harry, “You two need a place to stay? I’ve only got two beds in my room, but given the circumstances, I take it you don’t mind sharing.”

The pair looked at each other for approval before Harry decided, “That would be great, thanks, man.”

As the three of them walked back into the hotel, Harry and Louis holding their bags they had retrieved from Liam and Zayn’s car, Niall told them to meet him by the elevators while he let the front desk know that he’d be adding two more people to his room for the night. Leaning up against the wall, Harry rested his bags on the ground and crossed his arms.

“What’s the next item?” Louis asked. He stood shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Harry pulled both the list and the pen out, tapping the end of the pen against the corner of his mouth. As he read, he noticed a number eleven had been added to the bottom, and it was definitely not something he would’ve added sober. His eyes widened, but he tried not to make it noticeable enough that Louis would ask what was wrong. This new item didn’t even look like his own writing, and it certainly wasn’t something he could complete in the next four or five days that were left in his time limit. So he decided to ignore it and scanned the list for other options.

“Climb a mountain,” Harry said, figuring they should probably get the harder ones out of the way, anyway.

“This is the desert,” Louis told him.

“There are mountains in the desert! But I was thinking we could go to Arizona, maybe rent a car.” He uncrossed his arms and started playing with his hands distractedly.

“So we’re going to go hiking in Arizona?”

“Or camping.”

Louis took a deep breath and messed up his face into an unenthused expression with raised eyebrows. He hadn’t even been hiking, never mind camping. Never had he considered needing to know how to set up a tent or start a campfire. But Harry looked so excited about it and he had a face that was quite hard to say no to. Besides, this was Harry’s list. He was the whole reason Louis was here to begin with.

“Alright,” Louis sighed. “So when do you want to leave?”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go tomorrow!”

“Have you ever even been camping?”

“Nope!” Harry grinned. “That’s the whole point.”

 

Once Harry and Louis got settled in, Niall tried to convince them to go down to the casino with him for one last round before they were to leave in the morning, but he couldn’t get them to budge. Harry claimed he was too tired, but really it was more of a mental exhaustion. The last few days had been a lot of bars and outings and meeting new people. What he really needed was a quiet night in. Or, at least, just a quiet night.

Louis felt weird going anywhere without Harry at this point, so he opted to hang out in the room with him. Maybe he’d get those few extra hours of sleep still needed to cure his jetlag. It would probably do him good for their apparent upcoming camping trip.

While Harry flipped through channels on the TV, Louis took it upon himself to raid the hotel mini bar. Compared to the room they were staying in before, this was nothing. But one thing they did have was Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. Louis picked the individual sized bag – which really seemed like it could feed more than one individual – out of the basket above the mini fridge, then bent down to get a Coke from the fridge door.

“Want anything?” Louis called across the room towards Harry.

“Do they have something that’s chocolate?” Harry asked. He was leaned back against a stack of white feather pillows on the bed and had his legs stretched out in front of him.

Louis shuffled through the basket again. “KitKat?”

“Pass it here,” Harry put his hands in the air to catch it. When Louis made the light throw, the chocolate bar landed on the blankets just in front of him. Harry tore open the wrapper right away and broke a piece off.

As he walked back across the room to join Harry in his own side of the bed, Louis cracked open the Coke and took a tiny sip then placed in on the bedside table. He probably could’ve watched TV from Niall’s bed while he wasn’t there, but the two of them were past minding too much at this point.

Harry had some sort of real estate show playing on TV. One of the hundreds that were about a couple looking to buy a house with a too-low budget and ridiculous standards.

“That tile is awful,” Louis commented as he ripped open his bag of Cheetos.

“And it does not go with that backsplash at all,” Harry agreed over a mouthful of KitKat.

“Why does he want carpet so bad? All it does it get stained and dirty. And what do they have, eleven kids?”

“Four,” Harry corrected.

“And they’re going to settle for this three bedroom house just because it has Jacuzzi tubs?”

“You forgot the walk-in closet and shiplap walls.”

“Oh, damn,” Louis raised defensive hands dramatically. “How could I forget the shiplap?”

“It’s really a pivotal point in the decision making process,” affirmed Harry.

Louis picked up the Cheetos bag that was rested in the middle of his crossed legs and tilted it towards Harry. “Cheeto?”

Reaching a hand over, Harry picked a few up between his fingers and dropped them all into his mouth. As he chewed, a crease formed between his eyebrows.

“Why are those spicy?” he asked.

“They’re Flamin’ Hot Cheetos,” Louis said, holding the bag up so he could see the label.

“Ah, they’re really hot,” Harry stressed, taking a sharp breath in between his teeth.

“Hence the name.”

When he sat up and began waving a hand in front of his mouth was when Louis started laughing. “You really don’t have a tolerance for spice, do you?”

“Water,” he choked out.

“It cannot be that bad.”

“Louis,” he coughed out like a plead. It was truly the most dramatic act Louis had seen performed.

“Fine, you baby, I’ll get you some water,” Louis stood up with a huff and took a water bottle from the mini fridge. As soon as it was in Harry’s hand, he gulped about a third of it. “Feel better?” Louis raised an eyebrow.

“Much,” Harry let out when his water was swallowed.

“That looked like it was your second near-death experience this week.”

“Felt like it, too,” Harry laughed, then began coughing again.

“Imagine if that was really how you went. Death by hot Cheeto.”

“I guess you could say I cheet-ed death.”

Louis sighed and rolled his eyes. “I can’t even be mad because I set you up for that one.”

When Louis sat back in his spot on the bed, he didn’t even notice right away that he and Harry’s shoulders were overlapping each other. Harry, on the other hand, did notice, but he also didn’t mind it. There was something soothing about the warm presence of someone else’s touch, no matter how innocent.

It was hard to tell if the show they were watching was still on, or if another one had taken its place because they all sort of blended together. Every episode was the same: a couple with horrible taste, usually straight and white, a few houses that they definitely couldn’t afford or would probably hate, one house that was perfect for them, but they always went back and picked one of the others. Predictability, horribly disguised. But people love to hate things, and that’s why it was so entertaining.

Louis didn’t know when he began to use Harry’s shoulder as a pillow, but it was quite comfortable. Not soft so much, but shaped perfectly for his head to rest on it.

“I’m bored,” Louis decided. He’d had enough of watching these straight people make bad decisions.

Harry clicked on his phone to check the time. It was nearing ten, but he wasn’t ready for bed yet. Not even getting sleepy.

“What do you want to do?”

Looking down, Louis could see a corner of the list sticking out of Harry’s pocket. He reached down to pull it out, but Harry was quick to cover it with his hand. Louis looked up at him to read his expression, a little confused at the defensive reaction.

“The next item is to break the law,” Harry said quickly, hoping to ease the suspicion. He just couldn’t exactly let Louis see the list now that a number eleven had been added. That really wasn’t something he needed to cross off.

“Break the law? What, do you want to plan a heist?”

“Or we could do something without needing it to be a list item,” suggested Harry instead.

Louis lifted his head so his chin was resting on Harry’s shoulder instead. “Want to go for a walk? See Vegas one last time?”

“Sure,” Harry nodded, “but this time, let’s leave the camera behind.”

Exiting the hotel, Louis wore his denim jacket over sweatpants, and Harry pulled on an oversized jumper with his jeans. There were no plans to actually go anywhere specific, just wander the streets and take in the sights. They had more than their fair share of the Vegas party scene.

A few blocks over from the hotel was where they stopped for a coffee. Just two to-go, iced, like usual. This city was far too hot for drinks without ice cubes.

“I don’t think I could ever live here,” Harry decided as they walked along the side of a road that was not exactly popular for tourists. They each had their hand that wasn’t holding their drink in their pockets, half a foot of space between them.

“Here specifically, or the country as a whole?”

“Anywhere in America. It’s just so… big.”

Louis barked a laugh at that and Harry’s eyebrows shot up.

“I’m serious! It took us nine hours just to get to the next state!”

“I guess, but you haven’t seen that much of the country,” he reminded Harry.

“We’re going to see more of it tomorrow, aren’t we?”

“Speaking of that, how exactly are we going to camp? We have no supplies.”

“We can buy a tent.”

“I think we’d need more than just a tent. What about sleeping bags, a lantern, a tarp in case it rains…?”

“We’ll go to an outdoor store tomorrow and figure it out. Let’s not worry about it today, hmm?” Harry side-stepped to jump up onto the two-foot cement wall and walked across it, holding his arms out for balance.

“Don’t fall there, _Cirque Du Solei_.”

Just as Louis said it, Harry stumbled on his footing a bit. Louis raised his arms up so Harry could hold onto his hand for balance as he walked. Even after he collected his footing, he decided not to let go. At the end of the grassy hill next to them on the path, Louis noticed what looked like a miniature theme park in the distance.

“What’s that?” he nodded his head in the direction he wanted Harry to look in.

“Looks like it’s abandoned, whatever it is. All the paint is worn off.”

“Weird. Should we check it out?”

Still holding onto his hand, Harry jumped down so he and Louis were on the same level, then let go of the grip. “You want to go to an old abandoned theme park?” he said, still looking at it.

“Why not?”

Going off the beaten path, the pair set off on the grass that went in that general direction. It was getting quite dark out and the only lights were the street lights surrounding the park. Also, as they got closer, they realized it was not a theme park, but rather, a mini golf course. One that just looked more old than it did abandoned. When they reached the gate, Harry extended his hand towards the latch.

“It says no trespassing,” Louis whisper-yelled even though no one was around, then pointed to the sign clearly in front of them on the fence. Harry tried pulling at the padlock and, much to his surprise, it fell open right in his hand.

“They didn’t lock it,” Harry shrugged, then opened the gate wider to walk through it.

“There’s probably security cameras everywhere,” stressed Louis. “We’re gonna get caught.”

“Then we run. It’s not like we’ll be around to face the consequences tomorrow. All we’re gonna do is walk around, anyway.”

Louis hesitated a moment more, watching Harry continue to walk further as he stood on the outskirts. Finally, with a sigh of surrender, Louis followed him.

The mini golf course was really nothing special. A lot of animal designs and statues, wind mills, a river that ran through it with a waterfall that wasn’t turned on in the middle of it all. Some of the fake grass was ripped in places and the paint was chipped. If Louis had to guess, he’d say the place was built about thirty years ago, but hadn’t been renovated in ten.

“I feel like I need to start singing that song Zac Efron sang in the High School Musical sequel,” Harry said as he walked across one of the putting greens.

“You don’t have nearly enough space to flail around,” Louis informed him. “Besides, that wasn’t even the best performance in that movie.”

“Weren’t you, like, sixteen when it came out?”

“I mean, yeah, but everyone has seen High School Musical. And the best performance was Chad and Ryan on that baseball field. There is no way they didn’t fuck after that.”

Harry let out a laugh as he tried to walk across a bridge that was meant for golf balls, not humans. “I never thought about that, but I suppose they did have a lot of chemistry.”

“Honestly, they should let Sharpay and Gabriella be together and have the fourth one just be their super gay college years,” Louis continued making Harry laugh even more. He quite liked the way Harry laughed. It just sounded so sincere and bright coming from his smile.

When it got quiet again, Louis decided it was time to let his big mouth show off again. Well not decide so much as that it was just involuntary. He hiked himself up onto the back of a lion statue that he could sit on and cleared his throat. “Well, Harry, this is quite the first date spot you’ve picked out for us.”

“First date?” Harry raised an eyebrow, but already had caught onto the sarcasm.

“I was really hoping it would be something more extravagant. Fancy dinner on a patio, hot air balloon ride into the sunset,” Louis mused, looking dramatically into the distance. Harry was still making his way around the course using his feet instead of a ball.

“Interesting. I was thinking eating junk food and watching HGTV in a hotel room was a better idea. But what can I say? I’m a cheap date.”

“Good to know.”

“Have you ever been on a real date?” Harry wondered a bite more seriously.

“Um,” Louis took a deep breath, trying to really think about it. “Do hookups from dating apps count?”

He didn’t mean to give Louis a look of pity, but Harry was pretty sure it came off that way.

“I’m kidding, of course I’ve been on dates! None of them really turned into anything, obviously. It just never used to be my thing.”

 _Used_ _to._ Interesting…

“What about now?” Harry asked.

Louis let the question hang for a moment. “I’d be willing to give it a shot again. With the right person, I suppose.”

Since he didn’t know what else to say, Harry just left the answer as it was. He got the information he was looking for, he just wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“What about you?”

Harry creased his eyebrows. “What about me?

“You said you haven’t dated since you broke it off with your fiancé. Where do you stand now?”

“I guess I’d be willing too,” Harry decided, then smirked, which made Louis’ heart do a little leap that he wasn’t expecting. “With the right person.”

Harry wondered if Louis was reading between the lines the same way he was. He wasn’t even exactly sure what was written there, but the space definitely wasn’t blank. More like, it was just up for interpretation.

“HEY!” A man’s voice shouted from the shack-like building near the entrance they came in. Around them a flashlight started flickering around while the shouting continued. “You aren’t supposed to be here! I’ll call the cops!”

Harry and Louis looked at each other, then Louis jumped down and they started to make a run for it. Thankfully, the gate was still open and they could make a beeline right through it. Louis expected them to be chased, but no footsteps could be heard behind them. Only their own pounding on the pavement.

Harry ran ahead and led them to a back alleyway next to a brick wall so far that the golf course was barely in sight. Both of their chests were pounding as they tried to catch their breath. Louis leaned against the brick wall and bent over with his hands on his thighs. Harry rested his back up to the one on the other side and slid down a bit so his legs were stretched in front of him. They were next to dumpsters and garbage and probably rats, but they got away. That was the important part.

“At least you can cross that next item off the list,” Louis laughed between breaths. “I’m pretty sure trespassing is breaking the law.”

Harry smiled a bit, but it wasn’t at what Louis said. It was just because he was looking at him and that’s just what his face decided to do. Then he found himself lunging forward and holding Louis’ cheeks in his hands and connecting their lips in one smooth motion.

If Louis pulled away, Harry was ready to accept that rejection. He’d step away and give Louis his space. But instead, Louis immediately started kissing him back. Like he was already prepared for what was going to happen next. Harry didn’t really know what he was doing, but he knew he really wanted to do this. He pushed Louis back up against the wall and dropped his hands from his cheeks to his waist. Louis was busy tracing Harry’s jawline with his thumb as it moved in rhythm with the kiss. For Harry, it had been so long since he’d last kissed someone. So long since he’d even wanted to.

Okay, so maybe they were surrounded by dumpsters and garbage and probably rats. And yeah, they just ran away from possibly getting in trouble for trespassing. And thinking a little more widely, they were strangers who met on a train only a few days ago when one accidentally shot a gun at the other. But now they were making out in a back alley on the other side of the world, and for some reason, nothing about it felt wrong in the slightest.

Harry was starting to think he might’ve settled on his regrets, because right now he had none.

 

Back at the hotel, after spending far too long in that alleyway and taking their time walking back, Harry lay awake on his side of the bed. He glanced at Louis next to him, his back turned and the blanket pulled up just under his ears. Nothing had happened since that alleyway. Even there, all they did was kiss. Anything else was just too sleazy to be done next to rotting garbage. It was past midnight when they walked through the door, and Niall was already back anyway. It was almost like nothing had changed. They were just kind-of-friends that were travelling together to film this strange documentary and finish a list. Harry wasn’t sure how much he liked that.

As he glanced around the dark room, Harry’s eyes landed on the camera case that was sitting on a chair across from him. He eyed it for a moment as an idea sprouted in his mind, then quickly pushed back the blankets and stood up. Picking up the camera, Harry grabbed his key card up off the table then headed for the door.

The hallway light was much brighter than he expected, so he had to squint his eyes to tolerate it. Harry walked until he found a small space near the stairwell that looked to be relatively far from any people. He sat down on the carpet with his back against the wall and pulled his feet up to his chest. Then, after finding the right angle, he turned the camera lens towards himself and hit record.

“I don’t really know how to start this, but I suppose this is like a video confessional,” Harry began. He kept his voice quite low just in case anyone happened to walk by. “We didn’t get any of it on video, but Louis and I finished number seven today. The item was “break the law” and we kind of did it by accident. We went for a walk in a less-popular part of Vegas and ended up at an old mini golf course. I wanted to check it out since the gate wasn’t locked, but a security guard kicked us out for trespassing right away. Still, it was kind of fun,” Harry smiled, then paused to look away. He hoped this upward angle didn’t look to bad on camera, but he was just more concerned about what he had to say.

“Another thing happened tonight after that security guard kicked us out. We ran to this back alley to get away and Louis and I… well, we ended up kissing. Like, for a long time. I didn’t really expect for that to be the way the night turned out, but you know how sometimes you get the feeling you just _need_ to do something? That’s what I felt like when I looked at Louis from across the alley.

“He really is incredible, you know. He’s got all these great thoughts and ideas. And his stories… he’s really lived his life. At first I kind of envied him because of that, but now I’m just grateful I met him. And now we’ve spent all this time together. It’s been great to get to know him. Not to get sappy, but I kind of think he might’ve changed my life. Wow, okay, this is getting to dramatic,” Harry laughed to himself, tilting the camera up so he was below frame. He took a second to figure out what he’d say next, then brought it back to his face.

“Anyway, I’m not really sure where I was going with this. Maybe just to admit I’m falling for him? I mean, that ship sailed a while ago. Did I mention we just made out in a back alley?” Instead of laughing at his own joke, Harry just yawned. He really should be getting to bed.

“I don’t really know what’s going to become of all this footage, or this trip, or what happens after I finish the Fuck-It List. I wanted my life to change, but I’m still going to go back to that same city and the same apartment. God, then I have to go looking for a new job. I don’t even know what I’m going to do…” He let his head fall back against the wall, then immediately straightened it back up. “No, that’s not what this is about. I’m living in the present, not thinking about what it’ll be like back home. I have the rest of my life to stress and worry, might as well save some of it for along the line.”

Harry paused again to sigh, then looked directly into the lens of camera as he rested a cheek on his propped up fist. “However my life changes back home, I just hope Louis is still in it."

~~7.Break the law.~~


	9. 8. Climb a mountain.

By noon the next day Harry and Louis were back on the road again. Early that morning, they said their goodbyes to Niall before heading to the car rental place. Niall made Harry promise to text him once he was back in London so they could hang out sometime. When Harry said he would, this time, he wasn’t lying.

Louis had to rent the car in his name since Harry wasn’t twenty-five yet, which seemed like an odd rule to Harry considering he was an adult and hadn’t been told he wasn’t allowed to do something so simple in years. With that said, Harry wasn’t too upset about his inability to drive the rental car. Especially when the laws here were so different and he had never driven on the right side of the road before.

Sitting behind the wheel, Louis had to grip it tightly and use all his brain power to make sure he was doing all the turns and maneuvers correctly. Once they were on the highway he was pretty much okay, but it didn’t change the feeling from being just as strange.

The drive to Arizona was five hours, so nearly half the time it took to get to Vegas from San Francisco. Even still, that was five hours in the car together. Five hours of being in the same enclosed space with the same thought lingering around both of their minds. At some point they were going to have to talk about the kiss. Unless, Harry thought, he could just… avoid it…

Harry quite liked driving through the desert. It was a lot of open road and looking at the same thing, but the feeling of it was so smooth and calming. Especially with the radio humming along in the background and the sun beating down it’s bright rays. And the company wasn’t so bad either, he supposed.

Harry was sat in the backseat instead of the passenger one, but that was just because that was the only way he could stretch out his legs that were hanging out the open window. The sun beamed through the open sunroof and Louis had some old rock station on in the background. It was quiet, but in the peaceful way, not the uncomfortable way. Harry had the camera in his hands and was scrolling through photos and videos from the trip so far. That was when he came up with an idea. Switching into record mode, Harry angled the camera to the side of Louis’ head and looked through the viewfinder.

“Do you want me to credit you as Russell Hammond or Louis… What’s your last name again?” Harry felt a little embarrassed not remembering it.

“Tomlinson,” Louis told him, then looked in the rear view mirror and realized what he was doing. “Why are you recording? I’m not the subject of the documentary.”

“What do you mean? You’re basically the co-star at this point. Have you ever seen Catfish? You’re like the Max to my Nev.”

“In that case,” Louis smiled, “credit me as Louis. Russell Hammond is only for when I don’t want to be remembered.”

“I think it’s about time we filmed _your_ interview,” Harry decided, sitting back up and settling himself on the centre seat. When he realized he couldn’t get a right angle, he proceeded to stretch a leg over the armrest in the front to climb back into the passenger seat.

“Woah, watch out, mate,” Louis said when Harry accidentally bumped his right arm that was holding the steering wheel.

“Sorry,” Harry grunted as he fell back into his seat. Once he was settled, he adjusted the camera again. “So, why did you agree to help me finish the Fuck-It List?”

“Well,” Louis began. He felt like he needed to look into the lens or at least at Harry, but he also didn’t want to take his eyes off the road. “I didn’t really have much else going on. I just got fired from that record store for showing up late too much and, honestly, I felt like I was going nowhere. So when you asked if I wanted to go on this trip, it would’ve been kind of dumb for me to say no, don’t you think?”

“The day we left, though, you said you were coming from work,” pointed out Harry.

“Well, sort of. I was working at a recording studio with my friend, but we don’t get paid for that unless we start posting it online or something. Honestly, sometimes I think just putting music on hold and working an office job is the smart move. At least there’s a stable income there.”

“You’d hate it, Lou. There’s no creativity and no room to grow. You’re just waiting each week for a paycheck to get you by.”

Louis shrugged. “Wouldn’t be so bad, temporarily. At least make enough to pay rent for a few months until something better comes along.”

“That’s what I thought I’d be doing too, then two years went by and I started to realize that ‘something better’ wasn’t coming. The only way out was to quit and force myself to find it on my own. Even now, I’m unemployed and I still don’t know where to start.”

“Oddly enough, it looks like we’re in the same boat.”

“Maybe we’ll get a little farther if we paddle together,” Harry said, then immediately cringed at his analogy. “Nope, that’s not my thing. I’ll let you keep it.”

Louis started laughing and glanced towards Harry. “I’ll keep the analogies, you stick to the horrible puns.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

After that, Harry couldn’t think of any other questions to ask that he hadn’t already. There was so much more he wanted whatever audience would see this to learn about Louis, but he kind of liked the way he was learning stuff about him more. He was about to turn off the camera, but then Louis opened his mouth to speak.

“You know, there was this story I heard about Freddie Mercury in a documentary once,” Louis said, smiling a bit as he spoke. His own stories he sometimes told like he was reciting them for the hundredth time, but this one started like it was the first time this thought occurred to him. “It was told by one of his old friends from school. Or maybe it was the bartender, I’m not sure. The guy said that, before he was in Queen, Freddie would always say ‘I’m going to be a popstar, you know.’ So one time the guy walks into a bar they would both frequent and he sees Freddie sitting there with his head in his hands. The friend asks him what’s wrong and he says ‘I’m not going to be a pop star,’ then he stands up, puts his arms in the air and says, 'I'm going to be a legend!'."

“Is that true?” Harry asked.

“Well, I wasn’t there, but I assume so. I think about that story a lot. It was more than just what he wanted to become, it was what he knew he was going to become. And he worked hard for it, it wasn’t an accident.”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s an icon.”

“He’s a fucking legend,” Louis corrected, side-eyeing him with a smile.

 

Five hours, one stop for gas, two bathroom breaks, and a stop at a drive-thru later, they finally arrived in Arizona. More specifically, a town called Payson that was near where they intended to do their hike. Harry had done most of the research on his phone on the drive there and concluded that they would be hiking up one of the mountains at one of the most popular trails in Arizona, according to Google. And you could camp anywhere on the trail, which was exactly what they were looking for.

Since they arrived so late, they decided to stay the night in Payson and begin their hike the next morning. Of course, before that was going to happen, they needed to buy their camping supplies.

They parked in the lot of a department store that promised a selection of outdoor gear and walked in without really much of a plan. Harry knew they needed a tent and sleeping bags, and Louis mentioned that they should probably buy food and water from somewhere because that wasn’t going to be readily available for them on the trails. At this point, whatever looked useful was going into the cart.

“This one says it sleeps up to five people,” Louis said as they browsed through the tent aisle. He was holding the camera in his hand and it was recording, but he wasn’t really paying much attention to what was on the screen. Above each description and price tag was a mini version of the tent you would get. Louis touched the displays of each one as he looked, even though the sign for ‘no touching’ was clearly on display.

“We don’t need one that big,” Harry said as he leaned against the cart handle and scrolled through the list he started on his phone. “Remember, we have to carry around whatever one we buy.”

“How about this one? It fits one to two.”

“If you’re up for a cuddle.”

Harry wasn’t sure the joke would land based on circumstance, but Louis turned around briefly and wiggled his eyebrows as a response.

The next thing they needed was sleeping bags. That aisle was much easier to navigate, so Louis just picked up two cheap green ones off the shelf and dropped them into the cart.

“Think we’ll get cold at night?” Harry asked.

“Not if we’re cuddling.”

That time, it only sounded like he was half joking.

After that was backpacks. The aisle for them was much more extensive in terms of sizes and colours. Some even had built-in water bottles with a little tube to drink out of. Louis went right for a camouflage one and swung it effortlessly on his back.

“How does it look?” He asked, posing like a child on the cover of a back-to-school flyer.

“Hold on,” Harry put an arm out and looked around confusedly. “Where did you go? I can hear you, but I can’t see you!”

Louis smirked and dropped the backpack from his shoulders, using it instead to swing at Harry and hit him lightly in the arm with it. He wanted to laugh, but he also didn’t want to give Harry that satisfaction.

Just to spite Harry’s distaste in the camo pattern, Louis dropped it in the cart as his selection. Harry didn’t even notice until he placed dark blue one he got from the shelf next to it.

“You’re joking,” Harry deadpanned. “We’re barely even going in the woods, this is a desert.”

“It’s still green and brown. I’ll blend right in.”

Harry hoped he was joking, but also knew him well enough that, for the sake of the joke, he wouldn’t change his mind and pick another one. Camouflage it was.

Going down the list, they picked up matches, a lantern, a mini first aid kit that Harry insisted would probably come in handy, and bug spray that Louis claimed he would not step foot on those trails without. That meant all that was left was food, water, and proper hiking shoes. Those shoes were a must if they didn’t want blisters and bleeding feet.

They walked through the food aisles and filled the cart with beef jerky, granola bars, dried fruit, and trail mix. Louis picked up a bag of hot dogs so they could build a fire and roast them for dinner, which prompted Harry to search for marshmallows. You couldn’t roast hotdogs and just not follow it up with marshmallows.

For water, they just grabbed a flat of bottles and stuffed it at the bottom of the cart so they could take a few with them. There was probably a better way to pack water to avoid it from being so heavy, but they were rookie campers. The hobby wasn’t even something either of them really considered, so it would have to do.

To get to the shoe section, they had to pass by the aisles of toys as they crossed the store. Harry pushed the cart a little faster as they strolled so he could jump onto the bottom rack and ride on it for a few feet. When Louis spotted a clearance shelf of toys, he wordlessly walked up to it. Harry was pretty sure he knew what he was going for just by his initial glance.

“Are you gonna be in the mood for some campfire songs?” Louis asked as he picked up a red guitar that couldn’t be more than two feet long and had a character from that Pixar movie about cars on it. If it weren’t for the six strings, it could easily be mistaken for a ukulele.

“Oh, perfect,” Harry said sarcastically, leaving the cart in the middle of the aisle to take a closer look at it. “Now I can serenade you in the middle of the desert.”

“Damn, that was my idea!” Louis dramatically sighed.

“I mean, when I think of seduction, Lightning McQueen is definitely who first comes to mind.”

Louis barked out a laugh then shook his head with his eyebrows raised. “Too far!”

“I’ll buy this, only if you promise to give me your best rendition of _Wonderwall_ by Oasis,” Harry said, holding the guitar up by its neck. Louis couldn’t tell if this was still part of the bit.

“Now, or around the fire?”

“Save it for the fire.”

“Only if you follow it up with Brown Eyed Girl,” Louis bargained.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Harry stuck out his hand and they firmly shook on it.

The last thing they had to pick out was shoes. Of course, on the display case right in front of the men’s section, were a pair of camouflage hiking boots. Louis went right for them and grabbed a pair in his size.

“Nooo,” Harry groaned, which only made Louis smile bigger.

“This is truly how you become one with nature,” he said, proudly opening the box.

“There is no way you actually like camouflage,” Harry accused.

“Why won’t you just let me live my life as an aspiring duck hunter?”

Instead of replying, Harry got an even better idea. Without another word, he left Louis in the aisle with the shopping cart and walked to the women's section in the next row. Just like he had hoped, there was a pair of bright pink hiking boots, and they even had them in a size that would fit him. He slipped them on his feet and loosely tied the laces.

When he found Louis again where he was sat on a bench trying on his shoes, Harry tried his best impersonation of a runway model’s walk as he approached him. The colour was so neon and gaudy that all Louis could do was laugh, and make sure to get it all on camera. Even a head-to-toe pan as he walked.

“Are you serious?”

Harry shrugged. “If you’re trying so hard to blend into nature, then I’m going to make sure you can see me from a mile away.”

“Those are ridiculous. Please tell me you _are_ actually going to get them.”

“Do you really doubt I would?”

 

That night was spent in a cheap motel so they could have a good night’s rest before waking up early the next morning and beginning the long day of hiking ahead of them. It was nice to have a whole bed each to themselves again. Well, Harry didn’t exactly hate having to share the last couple nights, but being able to sprawl out as he slept was quite comfortable. Especially when he remembered that tiny tent that they’d be sleeping in the next night.

Noon seemed like a reasonable enough time to get to the trails, considering they had to be out of the motel by eleven anyway, but what they didn’t account for was the heat and how intense it would be at that point in the day. Louis brought his usual denim jacket, but even he had to wear a sleeveless tee and tie it around his waist. After all, it was Arizona in the middle of summer. What else did they expect?

For about two hours the night before, they packed up their hiking backpacks with everything they bought. It took a lot of organizing and reorganizing and more than a fair share of arguing, but they eventually got everything to fit. The bags were heavy, but they were tolerable enough to make do.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Louis took a deep breath, trying not to show that he was running short on air. The portion of the trial they were at had a steep incline.

“It didn’t take much convincing,” Harry admitted.

“Did you even check how long this hike was? What if we’re stuck up here for days?”

“It’s not that long.”

“Neither of us are hikers and we don’t know how to camp. We could die out here! How long has it been, anyway?”

“About ten minutes. I can still see the car from here,” Harry pointed towards the parking lot they had just came from. The car looked like an ant, but, yep, he could still see it.

Louis just groaned.

On the website, it said the trail was about an eight mile hike to get to the summit, with incline. Technically, they could make it there and back in just one day, but camping was half the fun of it all. That, and Harry wasn’t sure how much Louis was actually willing to walk with all the complaining he already heard.

The trails began desert-y like you’d expect from Arizona terrain, then as they got higher up they started to get more into the woods. Louis, of course, pointed out that his camouflage would come in handy, but Harry just stuck out a foot to show off his bright pink boots again. Those you could probably still see from the parking lot.

Near the top, once they got to the steeper and rockier parts, was when Louis gave up on trying to cover up how out of breath he was getting.

“I need a second,” Louis called at Harry ahead of him. He stopped and leaned against a large rock – well, against his backpack – and bent over so he could catch his breath.

“You aren’t that out of shape,” Harry observed. He stuck the hiking stick he found along the way firmly into the ground as he turned to face him.

“No, but my lungs are shit,” he let out a cough into his fist. “I gotta quit smoking.”

“Come on, the peak is just over there. We practically already made it!”

Louis didn’t know how Harry had this much energy. The heat alone was enough to make sweat drip down his forehead, never mind the added physical exertion. With that said, he did remember Harry saying something about working out regularly. Louis tended to rely more on his speedy metabolism rather than going to the gym to stay in shape, but he was finding now that maybe that wasn’t the best idea. Not that he ever considered himself to be particularly frail, but building muscle would definitely help. Oh yeah, and the whole ‘quitting smoking’ thing.

As it turned out, the peak really was only just around the corner. Even though they passed a few other people going either way on the trail, no one was there when they finally reached it, which was perfect since Louis already had the camera out. Admittedly, the view really was beautiful. All around them they could see lakes and rivers and mountains going way into the distance. They were lucky they ended up going when the sky was so clear, even if that meant the sun would cause copious amounts of sweat. But looking around him, Louis thought that maybe all of those things he complained about were actually worth it.

“This is amazing,” Harry mused with a grin spread on his face. Louis wasn’t even looking at what he was recording, just at what he could actually see in real life.

“It really is,” Louis agreed.

They stood in silence for a few moments, just taking in the vastness of it all. It was like looking at a photograph, only you felt like you were a part of it. Even though they were recording it all, Harry wasn’t sure there was actually a way to capture this feeling. Puts into perspective, in the grand scheme of it all, how small everyone really is. Not insignificant so much, but seeing how much more there is to the world outside of the bubble we all build for ourselves is one of the most freeing experiences anyone can have.

Louis was the one to acknowledge the large post right at the summit first. The reason for it seemed to be for people to carve their initials in it once they made it to the top. Lots of them had hearts around them and years added underneath, but really it was a cluttered mess of letters and numbers.

“Should we add our initials?” Louis suggested.

“I have a better idea,” Harry said. He picked up a small rock from the ground that was sharp enough for carving and found an empty space just big enough for four letters, then stepped back to admire his work.

“R.H. and A.V.” Louis read out loud.

“Russell Hammond and Anthony Vega,” explained Harry.

“Why didn’t you want to use our real names?”

“It’s more memorable that way. Ironic, I know.”

Louis laughed, which made Harry smile. It was getting a lot easier to make Harry smile lately. Probably because he was having trouble finding a reason not to.

After a few more minutes of getting more footage and enjoying the feeling of being on top of the world, they eventually decided they should start to look for a place to set up camp. They walked back down to the wooded area and eventually reached a small clearing that looked like it had been camped at many times before. On the ground there was even a circle of stones for a campfire. Perfect, considering neither of them would’ve thought to do that. And they couldn’t exactly look up any instructions without cell service.

The tent proved to be the hardest part about setting up a campsite. There were just so many rods and posts and it was hard to figure out what way the actual tent part was supposed to go. But they eventually got it and just hoped to God that it wouldn’t collapse on them in the middle of the night.

Harry decided that the fire would be his area of expertise. While he went looking for some dried up leaves and the matches in his bag, Louis pulled out the tiny red guitar that he had stuffed in the side of his own bag and sat down on a log that was made into a makeshift stool. He tried tuning it by ear even though it obviously sounded like shit.

When Harry came back, his mouth curled up into a laugh at the sight of Louis.

“I forgot we even bought that,” he said.

“Don’t think that means you get out of the serenading.”

“Can we at least save it for after dinner?”

“Please! I’m starving.”

Later into the night, once half the package of hotdogs and almost as many marshmallows that were burned were consumed, the sun was setting behind the trees and the fire crackled peacefully. Louis decided that meant it was the perfect time to bring out the certain treat he had been saving.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked when Louis stood up to go digging in his bag once again.

“Remember that thing I found in Zayn and Liam’s car?”

“You mean their weed that you stole?”

Louis held the bag up that contained two joints. One was slightly crushed, but the other was still intact and that was all they needed. “Got a lighter?”

“No, but we have matches.”

Louis grinned. “That’ll do.”

After a few minutes of passing the joint back and forth, Harry decided he was ready for the serenade he was promised. They sat on logs just a few feet from each other, so Louis flicked the butt into the fire and pulled the guitar out to position it in his lap.

“You don’t actually want me to play _Wonderwall_ , do you?” Louis asked, making Harry crack up.

“Play whatever you want,” Harry said, resting his cheek against his knuckles as he watched.

“You said you like Bowie, right?”

Harry nodded, blinking slowly.

Louis began strumming softly, the best he could do on a cheap children’s guitar. The sound was a little twangy and shallow, but it would do for a simple campfire song. What Harry wasn’t expecting, was for Louis to actually sing along.

“ _This is ground control to Major Tom,_

_This is ground control to Major Tom,_

_Take your protein pills and put your helmets on…_ ”

The song choice was an obvious choice, but his voice was so soft it went beautifully with the melody. Harry smiled as he listened, not daring to interrupt. Louis started to laugh a bit near the end of the first verse, but then he got into it again when it picked up after his condensed version of the chorus. His hand slid back and forth across the arm as he played into the final verse and brought it back to a slow end. When he finished, Harry took it upon himself to give Louis a round of applause, which made his cheeks flame from a slight embarrassment.

“I had no idea you could sing so well!” Harry commented. “I mean, that karaoke was fun, but when you’re trying...”

“Alright, enough with that,” Louis waved off the compliment. “Don’t think flattery is going to get you out of your turn.”

Harry took the guitar from his hand and rested it on his knee. “Any requests?”

“Umm,” Louis thought about it for a moment, looking into the fire. “The Beatles?” he suggested only because it was the first band to come to mind. That, and everyone knows at least one song by The Beatles.

“I can play _Blackbird_ , but I’m not singing,” Harry said pointedly.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to sing.”

“Okay,” Harry said, then took a deep breath to prepare himself. Louis was getting the impression that performing was not exactly something Harry was used to, or particularly liked. At least the weed seemed to make him feel a little calmer, if anything.

Across the fretboard, his hand glided steadily between chords. Down where his right hand was, his fingers were moving quickly to pick each individual string. He really didn’t give himself enough credit for his skill, Louis thought. He only played through to the first chorus and the ending, but it was enough to warrant the same round of applause from Louis that he gave him.

“Now imagine if you weren’t playing on a piece of shit how much more incredible that would be!” Louis said and it was Harry’s turn to be embarrassed. “Seriously, you’re really good. How long have you been playing?”

“Three years,” Harry shrugged.

“That’s impressive for three years,” Louis nodded his approval.

Harry offered a tiny smile. “Thanks.”

Not much more guitar playing went on through the evening – there was only so much buzzing that the thing caused that was tolerable – but they talked well into the night. None of it was important really, but it was the kind of conversation that felt like you were practically discovering the world’s secrets. And maybe there was a bit of substance influence, but that tiny amount only really did so much.

Eventually, when yawns were getting traded back and forth, they decided to call it a night. The fire was turning into coals and their eyes were starting to get heavy. It had been quite the long day, after all.

When they climbed into the tent, Louis got in first and waited for Harry to zip up the door before he lay down. They had already spread out the two sleeping bags and tiny camping pillows in the confined space. It would be cozy, but Louis was starting to think that might not be a problem.

“Harry, can I say something?” Louis asked just as he was about to lay down. They still had the lantern on in the tent, so it wasn’t completely dark.

“Yeah, go for it,” Harry nodded, looking slightly concerned. One of his knees was propped up and he had his elbow resting on it.

All evening, Louis spent debating how he would bring this up. It was something he couldn’t stop thinking about for the last thirty-six hours. But now he was running out of opportunities, so just going for it was his only choice.

“The other night, when we kissed, that was… nice.” He wasn’t making eye contact and that wasn’t an accident. He didn’t know why, but his heart decided to do an extra hard thump on its next beat.

“Yeah, it was,” Harry agreed. He smiled so Louis would meet his eye. There was that hard thump again.

“I wouldn’t exactly be against doing it again.”

“Neither would I,” admitted Harry, then there was a pause.

“Do you wa-”

Before Louis could finish his sentence, Harry was already leaning forward and pressing their lips together. Louis’ initial response was surprise, but this time was less eager than the last one, mostly because of how much easier it was to get the rhythm of it.

Harry cupped his hand just under Louis’ cheek in a gentle attempt to pull him closer. Louis obliged by placing a hand on his back and sitting up on his knees. Harry got the hint and started to lay down.

“Is this what you meant?” Harry’s words were a bit muffled for obvious reasons.

“Mhmm,” Louis affirmed brightly, making Harry smile humorously against his lips.

Louis tugged at the collar of Harry’s shirt until he gave in to take it off, Louis lending a helping hand, of course. Harry reached for the button on Louis’ shorts, which really seemed like the wrong order, but he wasn’t complaining.

In order for Harry to get down to just his own underwear, Louis had to get off of him for a moment to make it easier. Taking that as an opportunity to remove his own shirt, Louis hit his head against the top post while doing so. Instead of grabbing into where he hit his head, he grabbed into where his head hit the pole. It wasn’t hard enough to actually hurt, but more importantly, it didn’t damage the structure of the tent.

“You okay?” Harry asked, laughing only because Louis was doing the same.

“Only a minor fracture to the skull,” he said, then pushed Harry back again so they could resume. However, he may have misjudged the spacing and pushed him into the fabric of the tent. Harry only laughed harder.

“Maybe we should’ve went for the five person tent,” Louis commented through a grimace.

“I would’ve if I knew this is was on the itinerary for tonight.”

He moved his lips down to Louis’ neck since they were both sitting up again, and Louis had to admit it did feel quite good.

“Have you ever had sex in a tent before?” asked Louis.

“Nope,” Harry mumbled.

“Me either,” Louis admitted. “Seems easier in theory.”

“You want to stop, then?” Harry asked, but did not make any move to actually stop.

“No fucking way.”

Louis placed a hand on either side of Harry’s face and pulled him up so their lips could meet again. For a few minutes that was enough, until Louis thought he heard some shuffling and a noise similar to a growl coming from outside. He pulled away abruptly and Harry couldn’t have looked more confused.

“What’s wro-”

“Shh!” Louis raised his pointer finger in front of him and turned to the side to listen closer. “Did you hear that?” he whispered.

“Hear what?”

“I think there’s something outside.”

“What, like an animal?” Harry said in his normal tone. He was still holding Louis in the same way, hoping the interruption would be over soon.

“Keep your voice down.”

“There’s nothing outside!”

“But I heard something!”

“You’re being paranoid. Do you want me to go check?” Harry offered.

Louis shook his head rapidly with wide eyes. “No! What if it’s a bear? Have you seen The Revenant?”

Letting go of the embrace, Harry stood up as tall as he could in the tiny tent, which meant keeping his back hunched. Louis pulled back on his hand.

“No, don’t! Harry!” He said in a shrill voice. Harry just put a finger to his own lips to tell him to be quiet, still unconvinced that there was anything outside, and then unzipped the tent. It should be mentioned that Harry was leaving in only his underwear, but he had no shame, clearly.

Louis grabbed the pillow next to him and held it up to his chest, more scared for Harry’s sake than for what might actually be out there. He watched Harry’s shadow moving around the exterior of the tent as he searched. The only thing Louis could hear was his own breathing, not even Harry’s footsteps on the ground. The silence was becoming eerie. Even the lantern looked like it was becoming dimmer.

All of the sudden, the tent abruptly shook and a loud yell could be heard from outside. Louis let out a scream and shuffled backwards, only for his response to be met with laughing and Harry poking his head back in, perfectly unscathed.

“Don’t scare me, you dick!” Louis accused, throwing the pillow his was holding at Harry. It only hit him in the chest, but he was still laughing.

“I told you, there was nothing out there! We’re fine,” he assured.

“You’re still a dick,” Louis folded his arms. Admittedly, he was probably only hearing things, and they may have had something to do with what they were smoking only a few hours earlier, but he still had to settle his heart rate after it jumped.

“Does that mean you don’t want to pick up where we left off?” Harry wondered, trying his best to sound alluring with laugh turned to a playful smirk.

Louis unfolded his arms and let the smile on his face match.

“Definitely not,” he decided, then pulled Harry into him once more.

~~8\. Climb a mountain.~~


	10. 9. Take dance lessons.

Good thing walking down a mountain was much easier than climbing up it because by the next morning, Louis wasn’t even sure he could feel his legs anymore.

That morning they woke up extra early in a mess of sweaty and tangled limbs. Sleeping naked isn’t exactly the best idea when you’re camping in the desert in the middle of summer.

Packing everything up proved a bit harder than setting up, especially trying to fit all the parts of the tent back into its bag. The task in itself felt like a workout. Soon enough Harry and Louis were back in the car and only had two things are their minds: breakfast, and a shower.

“Where do you wanna eat?” Louis asked as they pulled out of the parking lot. The plan, for now, was to just head back to the motel and regroup before moving on to the next list item.

“McDonalds,” Harry said, without missing a beat. “I need coffee and a greasy breakfast sandwich.”

“I second that,” Louis agreed.

However, to get to a McDonalds, they still had to make the half hour drive back into town. A drive that, without talking, would be awfully uncomfortable after the events of last night. Luckily, they were long passed the awkward stage at this point.

“Louis, can I say something?” Harry asked, but the smile he was wearing was a bit mischievous. He started playing with Louis’ hand that was on the arm rest between them

“What is it?”

“Last night, when we fucked, that was…” he trailed off dramatically, “Nice.” Louis started laughing and shaking his head. The tone Harry was using was the same that Louis used when he was trying to initiate the whole thing.

“Don’t mock me,” he accused.

“Oh, I’m not. You were great,” Harry assured, keeping up the act. “That’s why I wouldn’t exactly be against doing it again.”

Louis bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold back on laughing again. “No?”

“Definitely not. Maybe after a date? Say, tonight?”

“A date?”

“Yes. I’ll plan the whole thing, you just show up and look pretty,” Harry said with a grin, then leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Do I get to know where we’re going for this date?”

“Nope. It’s a surprise.”

“I like surprises,” he said, over a bit of a yawn. It was still quite early in the morning. So much so that there were hardly any other cars on the road.

“Are you still tired? I can drive, if you want,” Harry offered.

“It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” Louis told him. That just gave Harry a different idea.

“Well, you should at least let me do something to keep you awake,” Harry smirked.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, he leaned over again and began kissing under Louis’ jaw, holding the other side of his face in his right hand. Louis leaned into him a bit, but tried to remember to keep most of his focus on making sure they didn’t crash. Slowly, Harry let his fingers trail down his chest until they were in Louis’ lap. Louis’ could feel his heart rate increase, and Harry probably could too, since his mouth was so close to Louis’ pulse.

“I’m driving,” Louis reminded him.

“That’s the point.”

That’s when Harry pulled his zipper all the way down and suddenly his hand was in Louis’ pants. And then, well, it wasn’t anymore, and his mouth was no longer on Louis’ neck, either. Louis gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and thanked God that no other cars were around. He tried to keep his expression normal, but couldn’t help it when a short gasp escaped. This was another thing he had not done before, given or received. Well, while driving, at least. This trip really was a whole lot of firsts.

“What happened to after the date tonight?” Louis tried to joke, then gulped. Harry was a little too preoccupied to answer.

This could not be safe, Louis thought. There was no way he was paying attention to the road at this point. Well, he could see what was ahead of him, but everything else was getting clouded with euphoria.

“Wow, okay. You’re really good at thaaAAat,” his voice hitched at the end, making it hard for him to collect his words. Or even his thoughts, at this point. They were all down in his crotch at the moment.

When he was getting close, he took hand off the wheel to hold on the back of Harry’s head as it moved up and down. His breathing was getting heavier and he had to resist closing his eyes from the feeling. For only a second he gave in just has he was about to reach his end. He knew no one could hear, but he still lifted his hand again to bite his knuckle through the release.

What he wasn’t expecting when he opened them, however, was to see red and blue lights flashing in his rear view mirror.

“Oh, fuck!” Louis exclaimed, immediately bringing himself out of the brief trance before he even had the chance to finish. “Harry, stop,” he said.

“What happened?” Harry asked as soon as he lifted his head, then also noticed the lights behind them. He turned around in his seat, realizing the cop was so close that there was no way he couldn’t’ve seen Harry’s sudden appearance in the passenger seat. “Fuck!” he repeated.

Louis first hit the break, realizing the fact that he was going ten over the limit was why the cop was behind him. He must’ve gained a heavy foot while his mind was elsewhere. At the same time as he tried to put, er- himself, away, he flicked on his signal light and moved into the shoulder.

“Is there a sweater or something in the back seat?” Louis asked after putting the car into park. They only had about a minute before the officer would be knocking on his window.

“Why?” Harry asked.

“To cover up!” Louis motioned with annoyance to outline in his pants.

Harry stretched himself over the seat, but there was really nothing there at all except some garbage from the drive down.

“We put everything in the trunk,” he told him as he sat back down.

The cop was out of his car now and Louis could see him approaching them in his side view mirror.

“What do I do?” Louis asked in a panic.

“I don’t know, just cover it with your hand!” Harry replied.

Then the knocking sounded next to him, making Louis jump in surprise even though he saw the guy coming. He rolled his window down and smiled weakly.

“Hello, sir,” he said.

“How are you two today?” he asked, sounding friendly enough for someone who was about to give them a ticket.

“We’re good, how are you?”

“Just fine. Do you know how fast you were going back there?”

“I think about sixty-five,” Louis told him. He wondered if his face was still visibly as red and hot as it felt.

“The limit is fifty-five on rural highways. Can I see your license and registration?”

“Of course.”

Harry grabbed the registration out of the glove box and handed it to him right away, but Louis had to slightly adjust himself to get his wallet out of his back pocket. He tried to slide his ID out of the slot with just one hand, but eventually gave up and used the open wallet to cover himself instead. At this point, the cop had one eyebrow raised.

“You alright there, son?” The cop asked. Harry had to block his face with his fist to keep from laughing.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine,” he told him.

“If you say so,” he was still eyeing him until he had both the licence and registration in his hand. “Keep the car in park. I’ll be right back,” he instructed.

Once he was out of ear shot, Louis let out the breath he was holding in and Harry practically snorted his laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Louis exclaimed.

“It’s quite funny, actually,” Harry argued.

“This is your fault.”

“You’re right, it is. I didn’t realize I was so good at road head.”

The comment made Louis start laughing too, much harder than he expected. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Well, you aren’t wrong,” he decided.

“Do you think he knew what was going on?” Harry wondered.

Louis widened his eyes. “God, I hope not.”

The cop finally returned soon after, but only to give back the registration and Louis’ ID. The two of them waited confusedly for an explanation.

“So I won’t be giving you a ticket today. Seems like you’re just here on a vacation and I wouldn’t want to spoil that for ‘ya. With that said, stick to the speed limits. They’re there for a reason.”

“Thank you, sir,” Louis said, letting out a relieved sigh.

“And you,” he bent down so he could see Harry and pointed at him. Harry was a little more than taken aback. “Try to keep your seatbelt buckled, and stay on your side of the car from now on.”

Harry met Louis’ glance, and it was almost enough for them both to lose it in a fit of laughter right there. Louis coughed to cover up the start of a giggle.

“I will,” Harry promised through a refrained smile.

They waited until he was back in his car before they pulled back out onto the highway. At that point, Louis really didn’t know what to make of the whole situation. Neither of them knew whether they should be embarrassed, or if that was just about the best and worst outcome they could’ve had.

 

Harry didn’t know why he packed so many clothes. He didn’t need this much for a trip that was barely even nine days. How many different types of events did he think he was going to? He brought dress pants, a rain coat, shorts, hoodies, multiple pairs of jeans and trousers. And he really didn’t know how he fit it all in his suitcase to begin with. That’s why it was currently all over their motel room floor as he attempted to refold and repack it all.

“Do you want to leave at 4:10 or 9:35?” Louis asked from where he was lounging on the bed, his hair still slightly damp from his shower. He had his phone in his hands and was scrolling through flights back to London for the next day. Technically, tomorrow marked the tenth day since Harry made his list. The goal was to have them all done by tomorrow, and he still wasn’t sure how he was going to finish that big number ten. Nine, however, he already had planned for later.

“9:35,” Harry decided. “Gives us more of the day in Phoenix rather than spending it all in the airport.”

“Good point,” Louis agreed. “So you want to buy them?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Harry pulled his wallet from his back pocket and grabbed his credit card out of it, then tossed it far enough onto the bed that it was in Louis’ reach.

“You trust me with this card? What if I was going to order a giant tub of lube off the internet,” Louis asked as he picked the card up from where it fell.

“Do you need a giant tub of lube?”

Louis shrugged, looking back and forth between his phone and the number on the card as he typed in the number. “I don’t know. Could be useful.”

“That would last you quite some time.”

“Depending on how ambitious I’m feeling,” Louis wiggled his eyebrows, then dropped his phone next to him. “Alright, we’re good for tomorrow.”

“9:35?”

“On the dot. There’s only two seats in our row so I don’t have to lie and tell someone we’re dating so we can sit together.” He sat back up properly and crossed his legs in front of him. Harry paused what he was doing and collapsed onto his stomach facing Louis, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Well, we are going on a date tonight,” he mentioned, tapping his knuckles against Louis’ thigh. “Wouldn’t be so much of a lie anymore.”

“That is true,” Louis smiled. He reached forward to brush his thumb across Harry’s cheek. “Speaking of that, when do I get to find out where we’re going?”

“After we finish number nine.”

“And what’s number nine?”

Harry hesitated for a moment, biting the insides of his lips together as he held back a smile.

“What is it? Tell me!” Louis urged, holding Harry’s clasped hands and shaking them back and forth.

“I don’t know if you’ll like it necessarily, but it’s only an hour of your life.”

“Harry, tell me what it is!”

“To take dance lessons,” he quickly admitted. “I signed us up already, it’s just basic ballroom dancing.”

“You’re going to make me dance?!” Louis exclaimed, dropping both their hands at once.

“It could be fun! We’ll both be horrible and it’ll be a mess, which will make it even more fun,” Harry insisted, brightly looking up at him. Louis could hardly resist that smile.

“You’re lucky I’d never say no to that bucket list of yours.”

“Well, it’s actually the Fuck-It List.”

“I know,” Louis scrunched up his nose in his smirk, “I just like hearing you correct people every time they say it wrong.” He paused for a moment to look down. “I started making one too, you know.”

“Did you?” Harry sat up a bit, surprised by the revelation.

“Well, it’s more like an actual bucket list. I don’t really have a time limit on it. Like one of them is write a bestselling album, which isn’t really something I could achieve in ten days,” he admitted.

“Can I see it?”

Louis picked his phone up again and opened the notes app. He handed it over to Harry without thinking twice. So far there were only six things typed out, but they were quite ambitious goals. With that said, if Harry knew anyone to be ambitious, it was Louis.

“I don’t really think I’ll be able to finish it, but it’s good to dream and have something to, at least, try to work towards.” He said it quickly like he was making sure Harry didn’t think he was crazy. Although, after the last week, Harry wasn’t exactly in any sort of position to be calling people crazy.

“I like this one,” Harry said, then read aloud, “Headline a world tour.”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. Not as realistic.”

Handing Louis his phone back to him, Harry shrugged. “You never know. It has been for some people. Who’s to say you won’t be one of them?”

 

Hours later, at a small building in a strip mall across the city, Harry and Louis stood facing each other in a large studio with ten other couples in front of a wall of mirrors. According to the two instructors, a man and a woman who were both in physical shape that looked beyond achievable, there was more to ballroom dancing than anyone in that room thought. It was all about having control of your body, not just counting the steps in your head. Dance was supposed to be about feeling, not thinking. Again, according to them.

During the first few steps, before the music even got turned on, Louis had his head down looking directly at his feet the whole time. Harry would’ve too, if Louis’ head wasn’t already in his way. The first movie was simple, to form a box with the steps. Somehow, even still, the pair managed to mess it up.

“No, you step forward and I step back,” Harry said, trying to fix the problem.

“If you step forward, then the next step has to be to the left and it’s supposed to be to the right,” argued Louis. They were still moving in the repeating pattern as they spoke. Louis still couldn’t really feel his legs after yesterday. He didn’t even want to imagine the pain his calves and quads would be facing tomorrow.

“What? No, if we just-”

“How’s it going, here?” the woman instructor asked, approaching them from the side.

“We’re doing alright, thanks,” Harry quickly told her.

“Make sure you’re holding your hands a tad higher,” she told them, lightly lifting their clasped hands with a smile, then moving on to the next pair.

“Why didn’t you say we needed help?” Louis asked, whisper-yelling.

“Because we’re already doing it,” he nodded down at their feet that had somehow synced into the proper box step.

“If it gets any more difficult than this, we’re fucked,” Louis said bluntly.

The male instructor finally turned the music on so they could try the move with the rhythm. Since most pairs caught on right away, they decided it was time to change it up a bit. A whole new set of foot work that included a spin, and a dip for those who were ready. Harry and Louis were definitely not one of the groups that were ready.

“I think I should be the one to spin you,” Harry said after the demonstration was finished.

“Why’s that?” Louis wondered.

“Well, I’m taller, so it’ll be easier.”

“Not _that_ much taller. I could still reach my arm high enough.”

“If I ducked, maybe.”

Louis wanted to be offended, but the humorous grin Harry was wearing was enough to make him crack a smile himself. Harmless jokes were just Harry’s method of getting his way. And, unfortunately for Louis, they usually worked.

“Okay, fine. But don’t think I’m letting that comment slide.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Spinning, as it turned out, was much easier when the shorter person was the one actually doing the turning around. It should also be mentioned that neither of them were actually dressed for the occasion of ballroom dancing. In their minds, the setting would be like a workout class, so they wore joggers and loose fitting t-shirts. Instead, most couples were wearing button down shirts, trousers, and some even dresses. For them, that probably seemed practical. The class was for couples learning to dance for their wedding day, so wearing formal clothes made the most sense.

(And maybe they might’ve had to lie about their relationship to get into the class. But hey, why not give Russell and Anthony one more time to shine?)

“Let’s try a dip now, shall we?” The instructors announced to the class. They proceeded with their demonstration, done flawlessly as usual. Harry and Louis only exchanged worried glances. There was no way this could turn out well.

Harry looked over at the camera that they had sneakily hidden under their jacket at the other end of the room. Don’t worry, he was already planning on blurring everyone’s faces if need be. They just needed some way to record the list item, and it’s not like Louis could dance and hold the camera at the same time.

“At least when one of us falls we’ll have it all on camera,” Harry smiled with gritted teeth.

“If you drop me,” Louis threatened, “I’m not blowing you after our date tonight.”

Just as he said it, the instructor was passing next to them. She looked like she was going to stop to offer help, but instead she kept walking, stifling a laugh.

When it came time to actually do the dip, Harry held Louis near his lower back and managed to get the move in one smooth motion right on the first time. No falling or injuries as a result. Louis was practically holding onto to Harry for dear life, but really no one was more relieved than Harry, himself, that he didn’t drop him.

 

By the time the class was over, both of them were too sweaty to try to continue on with the date without taking another quick shower first. They took their time in the change room, switching from their smelly clothes to the much nicer ones they brought for the date afterwards. Harry looked at himself in the mirror, doing up only about two-thirds of the buttons of his shirt, while Louis was blow drying his hair next to him. His nice clothes still included his usual denim jacket, but Harry didn’t mind. In fact, he quite loved when Louis wore that jacket. It was basically a part of him. He’d almost look strange without it.

Back in the rental car, Louis let Harry drive even though he technically wasn’t supposed to since his name wasn’t on the papers. They didn’t really have another choice though, since Harry had the rest of the evening planned and refused to tell Louis where they were going until they got there.

“Can you at least give me a hint?” Louis asked, rolling his head back onto the head rest and looking over at Harry, who only smiled briefly in his spared glance.

“It’s something I know you definitely want to do,” he admitted.

“Oh, so this is an activity?”

“Yes. And it’s also something I’m pretty sure shouldn’t be done after dinner, which is where we’ll be headed after this.”

“Do I get to know where we’re going for dinner, at least?”

“No, but I think you’ll like it,” Harry offered instead.

“You’re not very good at giving hints, you know,” Louis sighed in defeat, making Harry laugh.

The thing was, as soon as they pulled into a parking lot, Louis knew exactly where they were. Mostly because of the giant field behind the building with the takeoff and landing strip. As Harry pulled into the stall, Louis was staring out the window with his mouth agape, and Harry was just grinning, quite proud of himself.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“You’ve helped me cross nine items off my list, it’s only fair if I repay the favour,” Harry shrugged as he clicked his seatbelt open.

Louis remained still, not really sure what to do or say. “Isn’t this, like, super dangerous?”

“Yeah, but people do it all the time. It’s on practically everyone’s bucket list. As long as they aren’t afraid of heights, I suppose.”

“Are you going to do it, as well?”

“Do you want me to do it, as well?”

Louis had to think about it for a moment. His eyes were still wide because he really wasn’t prepared to do _this_ today. It was the kind of activity that you’d want a few days to process and decide on before you just went out and did it. But, at this point, he knew Harry was a bit crazy, and he did have his own list to finish now, after all. Might as well start it off with something big.

“Only if you want to,” he decided. “I can’t be responsible for three of your near-death experiences in the last nine days.”

“Three?” Harry cocked an eyebrow.

“Hot Cheetos,” Louis reminded him.

“Ah, yes,” he said sarcastically. “How could I forget such a traumatic time?”

Getting out the car, they walked together into the building. The young man at the desk greeted them happily and, almost immediately, pulled out waivers for them to sign. When Louis held his pen, about to put down his signature, his hand was noticeably shaky.

“Are you nervous?” Harry asked him when the man at the desk stepped away for a moment.

“A little. I mean, we are about to jump out of an airplane,” Louis laughed. He turned around to lean against the desk, folding his arms in front of him.

“Hey, I was nervous about singing karaoke a few days ago and that ended up being really fun and hardly scary at all,” Harry tried to reason.

“Yeah, but we didn’t have to sign a waiver to sing karaoke,” he pointed out. “But really, I’m fine. I want to do this.”

“You’re sure?”

Louis nodded with a grin. “It’s like you said. Everyone’s gonna die, but before that happens you’re gonna have to live. What makes you feel more alive than this?”

The man from the desk returned from his disappearance with an excited smile. He collected the two signed waivers and looked between them. “Ready to learn how to skydive?”

Harry and Louis exchanged glances, then hesitantly nodded.

First things first, training had to be done before anyone could even step foot on the plane. The lesson was easy enough. They sat in a room and watched an instructional video, then the actual instructor came in and reviewed it all. There were two other people going on the same flight, girls who seemed to also want to cross this off their own bucket lists. Louis was starting to wonder if he should’ve been more creative in his list making, but at the same time, this truly was an experience he needed to have. After the wild week he just had, this felt like it would take the cake.

The scariest part was before they even jumped from the plane. Out on the field, right next to the plane, they had to gear up and get strapped to another staff member. Thank God it was tandem, because they both were thinking they might have to tap out otherwise.

Sitting in the plane was the second scariest part. That’s where the nerves really started to rattle. The space was so tiny and cramped and everyone was too jittery to really say much. That mixture of nerves and excitement bubbled up in the pit of their stomachs. It was like butterflies, only those were something Louis envied right now. At least they had wings attached to their bodies. He was about to fall through the air praying that the parachute didn’t malfunction last second.

To get 14,000 feet in the air, the flight was only supposed to take eight minutes, bit it felt so much longer. With all the review and extra safety checks, they just really wanted to get out of there. And by that, they meant make that one giant jump.

Then finally came the last step. Louis was going to go first, and he stood at the edge wearily. It was his last chance to back out, but really how could he when the door was open and he was already looking at the Earth four kilometers below him. The logical side of his brain was screaming “STOP” at him, but the right side was cheering for the adventure.

Louis’ heart rate had jumped before he did. He took a long and slow breath to get in that last bit of processing, then a voice behind him was shouting “READY?”

And then his heart was in his stomach and his stomach was in his chest and he was falling. There was no more time for second guessing. No more time for logic. Time was slowing down and mixture of dopamine and adrenaline surged through his body. He wasn’t flying, but dammit, did it feel like he was. The smile on his face was so big he couldn’t stop it if he tried. The person he was with reached his arm forward with the camera he was holding on a stick to capture the moment. Hair flowing wildly, and all. From that high above the world, as he free fell towards the ground, Louis felt like his entire perspective was changing.

When the parachute opened, the decent quickly and significantly slowed down. He almost felt like he was floating higher up. Speaking of up, he tilted his head to see if he could find Harry above him. The red fabric of the parachute was mostly in the way, but he could see the shadow of three other pairs beside him along with the sunlight. All of them also had their parachutes open.

Thank God.

The smooth and gentle swaying before they laded was the best part. At that point, Louis knew he wasn’t going to die, so that was a plus. It was also much more relaxing than free falling through the air at 100km per hour. Two opposite ends of the same scale.

Upon landing, they slid across the grass, but then Louis had his feet planted firmly on the ground. He didn’t even know he was holding in his breath until he let it all out at once in a relieved sigh.

Shortly after he was able to collect his thoughts – because holy _fuck_ he just jumped out of an airplane – Harry had finished his land with a huge smile on his face. He was approaching Louis as they made their way back to the main building, looking giddy as ever.

“Holy shit!” Harry exclaimed.

“Holy shit, indeed!” Louis agreed.

Back at the front desk was where they regrouped to boast about the jump and get the USB filled with all their photos and videos of the experience. It was really hard for anyone in that room to wipe the smile off their face. Harry and Louis were smiling all the way back to the car.

“Holy shit!” Harry said again because those were the only words his brain could form based on what he was feeling.

“Thank you,” Louis said. His tone was still excited, but also sincere.

“Thank _you_ for thinking of that. Holy shit!”

“You good?” Louis asked humorously.

“I am absolutely fantastic.”

“I have to say, this first date is for sure the craziest one I’ve been on. And that’s a good thing.”

“Better than eating spicy Cheetos and watching HGTV in a hotel room?”

Louis tilted his head like he was thinking about it for a second. “Hm, maybe it’s a tie.”

“Speaking of this date, are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

Harry started up the car while they proceeded to buckle up their seatbelts. The radio turned back on to some alternative rock song from the station they were listening to on the way there. Since the sun was so bright, Harry had to put on his pair of sunglasses.

“I know your ideal date was a hot air balloon ride into the sunset and a patio dinner, but I was hoping the skydiving might’ve made up for that first part. The patio dinner, however, we can definitely do.”

“That sounds perfect,” Louis grinned. “Honestly, after a day like today – as fun and amazing as it was – I can’t wait to do something normal.”

~~9\. Take dance lessons.~~

_~~1\. Go skydiving.~~ _


	11. 10. Do something that makes me feel alive.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“This isn’t something you can change your mind about later. It’s permanent.”

“I’m not going to change my mind! Christ, Lou, you’re starting to sound like my mum.”

Harry was sat in the chair while the tattoo artist was getting the ink ready on the table next to him. He had to admit, he was a little nervous. Maybe not as nervous as he was when he was about to jump out of that plane yesterday, but nervous nonetheless.

Last night, after they got back from their date, they passed out pretty much as soon as they walked through the door. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he was so tired, or the last time he had such an eventful day. They woke up late the next morning after sleeping nearly twelve hours, but who could blame them? Yesterday, they woke up in a tent, hiked down a mountain, took a dance class, and then jumped out of a plane. Those twelve hours were well deserved, and much needed. Especially with that ten hour flight coming up tonight.

After leaving the hotel, Harry and Louis realized their time left was much less than originally planned. For a while they just explored the city, browsed in a few shops, and tried the infamous In-N-Out Burger after the suggestion from Liam and Zayn.

Speaking of the newlyweds, Harry had gotten a text from Liam every day since they left for their honeymoon. They updated Harry with photos of the different locations they visited across the south and down into Mexico, and Harry replied with stories of finishing each list item. Even though their encounter was brief, he had a feeling that friendship might last longer than he had originally planned.

As they stuffed their faces with the greasy burgers and fries inside the restaurant, Louis eventually asked about the final list item. The big number ten. How their great adventure would come to its final end. Over a mouthful of fries, Harry said, “Do something that makes me feel alive.”

Louis tilted his head, giving Harry an odd look. “That’s vague.”

“When I was making it I thought I might come up with something better after I already crossed a few off. Nothing I could think of at the time was grandiose enough for number ten.” He took another bit of the burger, glad they took the advice from their friends to try the place out.

“So have you figured out what you’re going to do by now? This is the final day.”

Louis was busy picking the lettuce out of his food as he examined the burger in his hands. Next to them he had the camera rolling, but only their arms and the food was in frame. Seeing their heads didn’t really matter, as long as their voices could be heard.

Harry shrugged, crumpling up a napkin in his hand. “I don’t know. I think everything we did kind of applies to that one. Plus that skydiving yesterday. That sure as hell made me feel alive.”

“You don’t think that might be a bit of a cop out?” Louis asked.

“Maybe. Even if it is, I think that’s okay. I mean, I definitely got more than I bargained for out of this trip.”

“Well,” Louis paused to swallow his food. “While we’re here, is there anything else you’d like to do?”

He thought about it for a second, then let a smile creep onto his face. Only now did Louis wish his expression could be seen in the camera.

“Actually, there is one thing…”

Which is what brought them a short drive away to the first tattoo parlour they could find. Harry already had an idea in mind for what he wanted. He’d been thinking about it ever since they visited that one parlour in Vegas where Liam got his accidental tattoo.

Louis sat on a chair on the opposite end of Harry, looking curiously at the stencil on the side of his torso.

“I still don’t understand why that’s what you want.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean, it looks cool, but why a cactus?”

“I just spent ten days in the desert to cross ten items off my bucket list. I think a cactus represents that pretty well. And I like how it looks.”

Louis smirked while crossing his legs in front of him. “Don’t you mean Fuck-It List?”

“You’re right,” Harry said, mocking disappointment in himself. “I can’t conform just yet.”

Overhearing the conversation, the tattoo artist looked at them confusedly. When Harry noticed he said, “Alright, do you want the shot version of the story, or the long version?”

She just shrugged. “Well, we’re gonna be here a while anyway.”

“Long version, it is. It started last Tuesday…”

As Harry told the story, he didn’t seem to mind at all that there was a needle full of ink piercing into his ribcage. Even when it first touched his skin, he gritted his teeth for a moment, then he was perfectly fine. Louis remembered the first time he got a tattoo clearly. Well, if you don’t count the stick and poke tattoos he and Elijah did of smiley faces on their hips when they were teenagers. It was the only place they could think of that their parents would never see. This many years later, it was so faded you could hardly see it anymore.

At eighteen years old, he showed up at a tattoo parlour with a friend from work who said she knew an artist there. The tattoo itself was just some cheesy song lyrics that he liked at the time written on his inner bicep. The words didn’t have much meaning to him anymore, except for the fact that they were his first tattoo. He had a few more now. Enough that the first one didn’t matter so much if it was bad. But now, when it came to tattoos, he went for aesthetic over meaning. Meaning changes over time, which is why he preferred to let that have its place on his jacket in the form of patches. They’re much less permanent that way.

When the artist wiped off the last excess ink later on, Louis peeked over her arms to get a look at the work for himself. Drawn on his side was the stencil of a round cactus sat in a bed of three little flowers. It was simple, yet still oddly eccentric for a first tattoo. Especially when you knew the story behind it. The perfect description for Harry as a person, really.

By the time Harry was bandaged and paid, it was already time for them to start driving to the airport. In order to have enough time to get through security, they’d have to eat dinner there, but they really didn’t care. They had gotten just about all they wanted and more out of their ten day trip. Home was starting to sound pretty great right about now.

 

“So that’s it, then?” Louis said as they browsed around a souvenir store near their gate. There was about forty-five minutes still until boarding.

“What’s ‘it’?”

“The trip, the list, the movie. Is it all finished?”

“It is when we land in London.” Harry was looking at a rack of keychains that had people’s names on them over photos of Arizona. He wondered if he should bring back little souvenirs for his mum and sister. They still didn’t even have any idea he had left the country. That was going to be a strange conversation when he returned.

Louis had his back turned as he examined the mugs on the opposite side of the tiny aisle. “And what happens after that? Have you decided what you’re going to do with all the footage?”

“Make a movie,” Harry replied simply. “Maybe I’ll upload it on YouTube or something. It’s more for me than anything else, but it would be cool if people got to see it”

It wasn’t until he turned around briefly to look at Louis did he realize he had the camera in his left hand, recording everything his right hand was doing as they browsed.

“Well, it does have a twist ending,” Louis wiggled his eyebrows.

“What are you… Oh!”

Louis just smiled and shook his head disapprovingly.

“To be fair,” Harry continued. “That part hasn’t come to an end. At least, I hope not.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Louis agreed. “But I’m planning the next date. Maybe less adrenaline junkie-esque this time.”

“You’re right. Probably want to save some of that energy for later, anyway.” Harry was only half-joking, but Louis just tilted his head to the side and nodded his agreement. He wasn’t necessarily wrong.

With a disgusted expression on his face, Louis held up a mug with a small confederate flag in the design. “This is a red state, isn’t it?”

“’fraid so,” Harry confirmed with a tight-lipped nod.

“Suddenly, I’m less sad about leaving.” Louis put the mug down and moved on to the snow globes next to them. Well, sand globes, actually. They weren’t even filled with any water.

“I think I’m done,” Harry decided, glancing around one last time then sticking his hands in his pockets. He decided against buying anything for his mum or sister. Either way, he’d still probably get yelled at for leaving without telling them. Twenty-three-year-old man or not, they loved him enough to scold him when he was doing something dumb. “Wanna go get some iced coffees before we board?”

“Yeah, just let me buy this.” Louis held up a patch of a cactus that he’d been holding on to. He noticed Harry looking at it and smiled. “We’ll match.”

As they walked up to the counter, Harry couldn’t help but smile to himself a bit. He even tried to hide it by coughing into his hand. It was probably stupid, but he felt kind of honoured that Louis wanted to get a patch to commemorate the trip. That meant it was an experience he never wanted to forget.

The first two hours of the flight were sort of exciting. They were still buzzed off the trip, and maybe the large coffees they just gulped down, but then it faded into night time and they were ready to be able to sleep in their own beds again.

Harry was pretty proud of himself for completing the list, but he still didn’t exactly feel complete. As he sat with his headphones in his ears, he was starting to wonder if Louis was right about number ten being a cop out. Skydiving wasn’t his list item, it was Louis’. He was just along for the ride, like Louis had been for him the entire week before that.

He decided to take his list out of his pocket and look at it one more time. Nine items were scribbled out in red ink. Number ten was still legible at the bottom of the page.

“What’s that?” Harry heard Louis’ muffled voice under the sound of his music. He took one earbud out so he could hear him.

“What?”

“I thought your list had ten items.” He pointed to number eleven at the bottom with raised eyebrows. Whoops. “Did you just add that now?” he smirked.

“No! I don’t know who wrote it. It’s not my writing,” Harry said quickly and embarrassedly. “I think Niall might’ve. It wasn’t there until he gave the list back to me in Vegas.”

Louis looked at the writing again, then asked for Harry’s pen and flattened out a napkin that was crumpled up on his tray. He began writing.

  1. _Join the mile high club._



He held it up next to the list. The writing matched perfectly.

“You wrote it?!” Harry exclaimed.

“It was probably a joke when we were all drunk. Remember, we were with two other people who thought we were a couple at the time.”

“It doesn’t really matter, I guess. I’ll just scribbled it out.”

He reached for the pen out of Louis’ hand, but Louis pulled his arm away.

“Wait…” he began, and smile creeping onto his lips.

“Louis, no!” Harry said, keeping his voice low. “You know it’s illegal, right? I already crossed ‘breaking the law’ off my list.”

“But you can’t just cross an item off without completing it,” Louis insisted, raising his eyebrows. “When are you one to get worried about what will get you in trouble? If I remember correctly, you’re the one who insisted on going into that mini golf course, and sucking me off in the car yesterday.”

Harry laughed at the reasoning, then took a deep breath. He glimpsed around to see if anyone was watching their exchange. No one was, of course. They were all minding their own business. He met Louis’ eyes again, which were still looking at him.

He settled more into his seat and leaned into Louis. “How would we even get away with it?” Harry whispered.

“I’ll go to the toilet first, then-”

“We’re doing this in the toilet?”

“Where else would it happen?” Louis asked, almost laughing, then quickly went back to his explanation. “Wait about a minute, then when no one is paying attention, you get up and meet me there. I’ll text you when I unlock the door.”

“Alright,” Harry nodded hesitantly along. “So when are we doing this.”

Louis looked up, not seeing a flight attendant in sight. “Now,” he said, then stood from his seat and disappeared down the aisle. Harry turned to watch him leave, not expecting it to be so sudden, then sat back normally in his seat.

Okay, he was going to have to act natural. He was definitely not going in there to do something illegal with the guy he was seeing. Nope, just a usual toilet break. Nothing suspicious going on there. He glanced up at the front of the plane and accidentally made eye contact with the flight attendant. His heart rate sped up like he’d been caught right there, but she just smiled at him then disappeared behind the curtain.

About a minute had passed, he decided, and no one was around to notice what was going on. He chose to believe that the people around them weren’t paying any attention. In his lap, his phone lit up with a text.

Tube Man: _door’s unlocked ;)_

Harry stood up, leaving his phone behind on his tray table. He walked slowly down the aisle, which was probably not helping his case. Right before he reached the toilets, he swore he saw the old woman in the last row wink at him. Keeping his eyes forward, he really hoped he was wrong.

He opened the door with the green lock a little hesitantly in case it was actually the wrong one, but he supposed if Louis wasn’t in there, then no one would be.

When he saw Louis’ face, he was smiling brightly and pulled him fully into the tiny space by his arm, closing the door behind him. With one hand Louis locked the door. With the other, he cradled Harry’s cheek as he pressed their lips together, using the rest of his body to push him against the door.

As expected, the bathroom was small and cramped. Really, there was only space for one person to stand up in it, but two people practically twisted together worked well enough. Harry let his hands fall to Louis’ waist so he could pull him in closer. Based on Louis’ hand placement, he didn’t want to waste any time.

Pushing both of them off the door, Harry turned them towards the sink where Louis could slide onto the counter. Louis held Harry’s head in both hands, while Harry stood between his legs, a hand on each thigh.

“How do we make sure no one hears?” Harry asked, when his mouth was free for a brief moment.

Louis was making his way across his jaw and down his neck. “Just be quiet,” he said, then decided to kiss a little harder in one particular spot. Harry made a tiny noise.

“You did that on purpose,” Harry accused.

Louis smirked. “Maybe.”

Not a lot more could be done with four layers of clothes between them, so they decided that needed to change. Nothing was taken slowly, partially because they didn’t feel like they had a lot of time, and partially because the whole situation had sort of a rush to it. Being pretty much in public, breaking the rules, only really having done it once before. That last point did lead to quite a bit of fumbling, but they eventually got themselves sorted. There was always the excuse that this was an airplane bathroom.

By the end they were left out of breath with their foreheads leaning against each other. Both were slightly sweaty, but they didn’t care. Harry’s smile broke into a laugh, which made Louis do the same.

“Can I tell you something?” Harry asked.

Louis laughed from his nose. “Not this shit again.” He raised his head so he could look at Harry properly.

“No, I’m being serious,” Harry insisted, but still had on that goofy smile. “I had to Google what the mile high club was.”

“Of course you did,” Louis shook his head.

“To be fair, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind until I saw it written down on the list.”

“Aren’t you glad now that I added it to your list while we were drunk in Vegas?”

Harry leaned forward to peck his forehead, just because they were still so close and it was so easy.

“I wish I knew what exactly happened to make you add that to the list,” Harry said, brushing a bit of the hair back near Louis’ temple.

“Maybe we were comparing the strangest places we’ve had sex. We did have an act to keep up at the time,” he reminded him. His hands were still resting at the bottom of Harry’s back, folded together

“That is true.”

“Now there’s the next list we should make. We can already cross three off: in a tent, in a car, in an airplane bathroom,” he moved his head side to side as he listed them off.

“Does the car count?” Harry wondered.

Louis widened his eyes and nodded his head. “The car definitely counts.”

Just outside the door, there was a slight sound of footsteps. They didn’t exactly sound like they were approaching, but Harry and Louis both turned their heads towards the noise. It was enough to remind them they should probably get the hell out of there if they were still committed to not getting caught.

“I should leave first,” Louis mentioned once they were both decent.

“How long do I wait until I come back too?”

“Just another minute, but wait about ten seconds to lock the door again.”

“You speak like you’ve done this before,” Harry commented, still with humour.

Louis looked up at him with a grin. “If I did, I wouldn’t’ve added it to my list as well.” He leaned forward and planted one last kiss on Harry’s lips, then disappeared out the door.

From then on the flight just felt long. Which made sense, because it was almost ten hours and they barely made it halfway through. Harry was long asleep practically from the moment they returned from their – um – bathroom break. His head was tilted sideways onto his neck pillow and some of his hair had fallen into his eyes, but he somehow still looked comfortable. That meant Louis was mostly alone with his thoughts, his phone, and the camera.

Along with the camera was the memory card with all the footage from the trip. Louis realized, then, that he never really had a chance to go through it all yet. Turning on the display, he started from the beginning.

The first thing on the camera was a photo of himself that Harry took in the store. He stared at it for only a second, humoured at the memory as his thumb hovered over the delete button, but instead he decided to move on to the next one. It was a video that Louis took as soon as he got the camera in his hands. He turned the volume low enough so that only he could hear it.

“Is there an internal microphone on this thing?” The him-of-ten-days-ago asked from behind the camera, which was poorly focused on Harry. “So what do you think, Harry? Is this the one?”

The lens zoomed closer on Harry’s face. He wore a dimpled smile that Louis loved to see. He remembered loving it even in this moment. “C’mon mate. If you want to make a movie you have to get used to being in front of the camera.”

He scrolled through the next few clips as well. All the conversations they had while getting to know each other, long takes of city skylines and the plane taking off, drives down the highway in the backseat of Liam and Zayn’s car. Louis was starting to think there was maybe more to this little documentary than some guy who wanted to finish his bucket – sorry – Fuck-It List. The camera had followed the forming of friendships, adventures, mistakes, regret, maybe even the beginning of something between the film’s two leads. It felt so real, mostly because it was.

Once the filming stopped, their lives wouldn’t. Louis thought of all the things the camera didn’t catch. The little moments that meant so much more than crossing something off. That’s when he reached a clip he wasn’t expecting. One he didn’t even know existed.

It was Harry. He was recording himself, seemingly sitting on the floor somewhere. It was the night of their first kiss. He could tell after the first few seconds, and just by the way Harry looked. That was one night he remembered well.

Harry was just speaking, and quite candidly, at that. And to his surprise, he was speaking about Louis. Everything he had to say made the smile on Louis’ face kind of difficult to get rid of as he watched.

“I don’t really know what’s going to become of all this footage, or this trip, or what happens after I finish the Fuck-It List.” The recording of Harry’s voice was weak through the speakers, but what he was saying sat much heavier with Louis.

During a bit of turbulence, he had to hold the camera closer to his face to hear. “I wanted my life to change, but I’m still going to go back to that same city and the same apartment. God, then I have to go looking for a new job. I don’t even know what I’m going to do…”

He listened with intrigue to every word. But then came the end, which resonated the most when his eyes met recording-Harry’s.

“However my life changes back home, I just hope Louis is still in it.”

At that point, he didn’t feel so much like going through the rest of the footage. He glanced at Harry next to him, still sleeping soundly, and imagined what his life back home would be like with him. Better, he presumed. No, actually, he knew for sure. Even now, it was already better.

Switching back to video mode, Louis decided to turn the camera on himself. If there was going to be confessional in this documentary, there might as well be one from him as well. The camera was angled low, but his full face was still in view. He had to speak so quietly he was basically whispering. Both so he didn’t wake Harry, and so the people around him didn’t think he was crazy. He couldn’t imagine what they thought of him after seeing the two of them gone for well around twenty minutes earlier on.

“So I guess it’s mine turn for one of these,” Louis started off with. The planning that went into this beforehand was approximately five seconds of him deciding to just hit record.

“I know you’re going to see this, Harry, so I might as well address it to you. I’m not sure if I was meant to see what you said about me in one of these earlier, but I did. Sorry if you didn’t want me to, or if you were planning not to include that, but I really think you should. You spoke from the heart and that’s really what this film needs, don’t you think?

“Anyway, it’s day ten and you finally finished the list. I’d show the camera, but it’s in your pocket opposite me and you’re asleep.” He moved the camera a bit to the side, just enough so Harry’s mouth-opened sleeping face could be seen, then giggled to himself. “Sorry, you can cut that out if you want.

“I guess I just wanted to say thanks. You know, for inviting me along to be your camera man and having all these experiences. I’m really glad we got to have them together. And I’m really glad I met you on that train, even if it was because I almost accidentally shot you. I know you said you don’t know if you believe in fate, but after that day, I don’t know how you couldn’t.”

More turbulence shook the plane slightly. Before continuing, Louis glanced up to gage a reaction, but no one else seemed to notice.

“I also wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you for doing all this. You called it a reckless adventure, but I say it took courage. Especially quitting your job. You found what was wrong in your life and you fixed it. Maybe in a drastic way, but you knew it was something you needed for yourself. I hope you don’t have any regrets. I don’t.”

Louis paused again to collect his thoughts. He didn’t realize he’d have so much to say, but words kept coming out and he didn’t want to stop himself.

“I’m excited to get back to London, I think. Not because this is over, but because I know we’ll get to be together. I mean, I hope we will. Now I’m the one getting sappy, but I’ve never met someone before that, when I wanted to be with them, I just _knew_. God, that really is cheesy, isn’t it?

“That’s about it, I suppose…” Louis trailed off, then turned his head to look in the camera for one more thing. “Oh, and I just wanted to say, don’t be worried about what’s going to happen back home. I mean, you probably will be, but you shouldn’t be. You have a whole life ahead of you and a whole world to have new adventures in. You have no idea what’s going to happen, but the possibilities in themselves are exciting enough. Conquer the world, if you want, Harry. I know you could do it. And if you’d let me, I’ll be right there with you.”

As if on cue, the plane started shaking again. This time, enough that Louis instinctively grabbed onto his arm rest. Above them, the light turned on for the seatbelts and the pilot came over the intercom to announce the same thing. Louis dropped the camera in his lap as he did his up, not even bothering to stop the recording, but when he turned to Harry to wake him up, he was already in the midst of doing the same.

“What’s happening?” Harry asked, voice flat. It was hard to tell if it was from the disorientation of just waking up, or from the nerves of severe turbulence.

“I don’t know,” Louis admitted without hiding the worry in his voice.

The plane continued to shake increasingly. Around them, passengers started to go into a slight state of panic. Another voice came over the intercom to let everyone know to stay calm.

Looking straight ahead, Louis reached next to him to grab Harry’s hand in his. He squeezed tightly, not sure if it was to hold on, or because he needed the contact. Harry’s squeeze back was reassuring.

“Are you scared?” Harry asked. His voice was surprisingly calm.

Louis nodded.

“Everything will be fine. Turbulence happens all the time. We’re probably going through a storm, that’s all.”

“How do you know that?” Louis said, rather directly. He almost felt like a child for being so scared, but the panicked feeling around the whole plane didn’t help much.

“Louis, look at me,” Harry said. It didn’t take a second request for Louis to meet his eyes. “Remember a couple days ago when we hiked that mountain? Remember how beautiful that view was from the top?”

“I remember, yeah,” Louis nodded.

The pilot came over the intercom again. They were going to attempt an emergency landing. Everyone was shaking back and forth in their seats as the plane was getting pushed around.

“Think of that feeling again. The freedom and the serenity. Had you ever experienced something like that before?”

Louis’ first instinct was to say no, but then he decided to take a moment to really think about it. “Once, yeah.”

“Tell me about it,” said Harry’s soothing voice.

“It was when I was about twenty-one or twenty-two. Back when I still had a band,” Louis recalled. For some reason, his voice was coming out normal despite their hectic surroundings. “We didn’t play a lot of gigs, but I remember our first one. It was at a bar. We played about ten original songs and a few covers. Before I got out on that stage, I was scared shitless. I just knew I was going to mess up. Then we walked out on stage and people started cheering. The bar was packed with people who didn’t know us, yet they were cheering so loud. Then we started playing and they were dancing along and clapping and yelling at the end. Maybe it was just because they were drinking, but they were having fun regardless. During the covers they sang along and the energy in the room was like, electrifying, you know? You can’t even really describe it. It’s like…”

“You’re on top of the world?” Harry asked, smiling. Their hands were still linked together.

“For a lack of better words, yeah.”

“Do you miss performing?”

“I do, yeah. And I miss making music.”

“When we get back, that’s what you should focus on. You’re great at it, Lou, you could make it really far.”

“Yeah, if we make it back,” Louis said, rather darkly. “How ironic would that be, eh?”

“A little too ironic, don’t you think?” Harry smirked, making Louis narrow his eyes.

“Are you quoting Alanis Morisette?”

Just as the question came out, the turbulence came to a halt and the movement switched to a smooth ascent. The quick change was almost shocking, but soon a flood of relief rushed through the sea of passengers that, only seconds ago, were fearing for their lives.

“Sorry for the alarm, ladies and gentlemen,” the kind voice of the pilot filled the cabin, “but we’ve regained full control and will continue with the rest of the flight as planned, without the emergency landing. Please keep your seatbelts on until the sign turns off. Thank you.”

Louis didn’t let go of Harry’s hand, but they were both looking at each other as they let out sighs. The look of relief in Harry’s eyes also revealed his previous fear. He had to commend Harry for hiding it so well, but he also wondered why he did.

“See?” Harry said with a tiny smile. “Everything was fine.”

“Yeah,” Louis agreed. “Thank God you were right.”

Four hours later they were set to touch down in London. Harry couldn’t wait to get home and finally have a night to sleep in his own bed. And really, he couldn’t wait to just be on solid ground again.

In the final minutes before the trip was officially going to come to an end, Harry sat thoughtfully with headphones in his ears. He thought about the last ten days and all the list items that came with them, but more specifically about the last one. Now, more than ever before, he knew he could cross it off. No one could live the same week he just did, then claim they didn’t feel alive. Especially while having a certain person in his company.

And maybe, he thought, it’s not about the milestones and hitting goals, or in this case, crossing things off. Maybe it’s more about the stuff in between. Your experiences as you get there, that’s what you’ll remember.

But after that, Harry’s mind began to wander to thinking about the future. About how many more days were still to come and how little he knew about what those days would bring. He still didn’t know how many were actually left, but none of us ever do. An end is always inevitable, but so is living once you start. We’re all stuck on this planet together, anyway. Might as well make the most of it while we’re here.

Suddenly the camera was in Harry’s face and his brief moment of reflection was up. Louis was grinning from the other side, but Harry could see the tiredness in his eyes. He wondered if he even got any sleep at all on the flight.

“Any closing remarks before we land?” Louis asked before Harry even had a chance to take his headphones out.

“I’m glad we didn’t die,” Harry deadpanned, but that didn’t seem to please Louis.

“I meant about the trip as a whole. Anything to summarize your experience?”

“I think I have a better idea of how to end this,” Harry decided.

Leaning to one side, he pulled the red pen and the crinkled, folded up list out of his pocket. He uncapped the pen first, then Louis made sure to zoom in on his hands and he unfolded the page. The scratchy all-caps letters of The Fuck-It List were bold on the top of the page. Below it were nine crossed off items, almost all of it done without a surface below, leaving tiny rips in the paper a messy handwriting. At the bottom were the final two, still waiting to be officially marked as done. In a quick motion, with a proud grin on his face, Harry swiped his pen back and forth across both of them.

~~10\. Do something that makes me feel alive.~~

_~~11\. Join the mile high club.~~ _


	12. Epilogue: Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we get into the end, I just want to thank you so much for taking time to read this. It really means a lot to me because I had a lot of fun writing it and I'm glad I was able to share this with you guys. This type of story is not in my usual comfort zone of coming-of-age drama, so it was a much different experience and I'm pretty happy with the result. I do have another project in the works, but I'm back at uni now so I have no idea when I'll get around to posting it. With that said, I'm sure I'll have some one shots coming and all that, especially for Christmas.  
> Again, thanks for sticking around long enough to get to this little note. Now, for the end...  
> (Oh, and if you couldn't tell by the obnoxious amount of references, and the title of the epilogue, I love David Bowie. Just had to mention that. Okay, anyway...)

_Four months later…_

9:00 AM: Harry wakes with a yawn and a stretch, but only barely opens his eyes. Instead, he turns over to meet in the embrace of the arm that was previously tucked around his waist. Louis stirs as he nestles his face deeper into his pillow, his arm still slung around Harry. With one eye finally peeked open, Harry brushes some of the hair out of Louis’ face, causing the faintest hint of a smile to appear on his lips at the touch.

“Morning,” Harry tries to whisper, but it comes out more like a groggy mumble.

“Mornin’” Louis replies, struggling to even get one eye open.

“Hungry?” asks Harry. With his eyes still closed, Louis nods. “I was thinking of making eggs and toast,” he adds.

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” mumbles Louis, not holding back on his yawn.

“You’ve been awake for, like, thirty seconds,” Harry points out.

“That’s how you know I’m telling the truth,” Louis grins.

Pushing the blankets back on the bed, Harry stands up and walks towards the dresser to find a pair of clean pants. He slides them on then turns back to Louis, who had pulled the blankets all the way back up to his neck. Harry bends down and pecks his forehead, then says, “It’ll be ready in ten. I’ll bring it to you.”

Louis looks up from his sleepy state to say, “Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?”

“Yes,” Harry smirks, “but oddly enough, it tends to usually be when I’m making you food.”

10:30 AM: On his side of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, Harry holds a blow dryer near his head as he moves his hair around with one hand trying to get every spot. At the sink, Louis brushes his teeth as he tries to decide if he should keep the shirt he’s wearing on or change it. Harry claims he looks great, but they would have a chance to stop at home anyway if he changes his mind. He just has an impression to make, is all.

While Harry’s arms are raised, Louis has a clear view of the tattoo over his ribcage. It’s long healed now, and is basically a part of him at this point. He looks at it with a new admiration every time it catches his eyes and the memories flood back.

11:00 AM: Saturday mornings are worse for getting coffee than expected, but Saturday’s are also their designated day to run errands, and coffee is always a must. At the Starbucks near their apartment, Harry and Louis sit in the long drive-thru in Harry’s new three-month-old car. He decided he now preferred it over public transportation.

“Two grande iced coffees, please,” Harry says into the speaker through his window. Their order rarely changes.

“Can you ask for pumpkin spice syrup in mine?” Louis asks, leaning forward in his seat to see the menu.

Harry turns to give him an odd look over his arm that’s still rested at the top of the wheel.

“What? It’s October, I like their fall drinks,” Louis shrugs.

“Actually,” Harry says, turning back to the speaker, “Can you add a pump of pumpkin spice syrup to both of those?”

When he sits back once more, he notices Louis giving him the same cocked eyebrow look that he had just received.

Harry just smiles humorously. “I’m feeling festive!”

11:45 AM: Harry pushes the cart as they move through the produce section, lazily resting most of his body weight against it. Looking at the table of apples, Louis has the grocery list and a pen in his hand.

“Let’s get the green ones,” Harry suggests.

“Babe, you hate green apples. You think they’re too sour.”

“Sometimes I’m in the mood for sour.”

Louis rips a clear bag from the roll and begins filling it, examining each one to make sure it’s perfect. “I will bet you the price of all these apples that you’ll eat one, then not be “in the mood for sour” until they go bad.”

“I’ll eat them!” Harry defends. “I’ll bring one to work for lunch every day this week.”

“Speaking of work,” Louis says as he ties up the bag and drops it lightly into the cart. “Are you ready for your meeting tomorrow?”

“I think so, yeah. I mean, I’ve prepared a lot, but they’re already excited about it and want to take it right to editing.”

“I’m really proud of you,” Louis says, looking at him sincerely. “You went from production assistant to pitching a documentary in less than four months.”

“To be fair, we already filmed it. They just want to release it under their production company.”

“Do you have a name yet?” Louis asks, handing over the list to Harry so they can swap jobs. They were now moving on from produce to the dairy section.

“We threw around a few ideas, but nothing is set in stone yet,” Harry shrugs as he opens the cooler to get a carton of milk. “I wanted to just call it “The Fuck-It List,” but I guess they weren’t up for that. Something about profanity being “inappropriate.””

“You’ll figure out something,” assures Louis, then he smirks. “Just don’t forgot my name in the credits.”

1:00 PM: For lunch, they sit at a small table on the patio of the sandwich shop they’ve grown to frequent. It’s right around the corner of the studio Louis’ been working at when he isn’t at his day job teaching guitar at a music store. He’s been there nearly three months and the pay is enough for him to finally get his own place, but Harry insisted he stay with him if he wanted. They’ve already been practically living together since they returned, anyway. Louis was still couch surfing at the time when they left, so Harry figured, if he was going to stay the night at someone else’s house, it might as well be his boyfriend’s.

Harry orders a chicken salad on rye, and Louis gets ham and swiss. Their order never changes and they always swap a half with each other. Under the table, their ankles are intertwined like school children at their desks. They can’t help it, really. Louis didn’t realize it could be so much fun being in love.

1:30 PM: As they walk down the street, hands linked together as they make their way to their next destination, Harry swears he recognizes the person approaching them on the other side of the pavement.

“Niall?” Harry says to the man in dark sunglasses and a white t-shirt. Niall stops and raises the glasses slightly as he turns his head.

“Harry, Louis!” he exclaims as they step out of the way of passerby. “How are you guys doing? I still haven’t seen you since I got back.”

“Really great, actually,” Harry grins, looking at Louis who’s wearing the same smile when they meet eyes.

“Are you guys…” he waves a finger between them, “together for real, now?”

They both look back at Niall and nod.

“No more Anthony and Russell, then?”

“Only according to our Starbucks and Amazon orders,” Louis jokes. “Much easier to keep track of that way.”

“That’s for sure. I’ve gotta run back to work, but we should all get drinks and catch up sometime, yeah?”

“For sure,” Louis says. Harry follows with, “You still at the paper company?”

“Nah, I started up at a marketing gig a couple weeks ago, actually. I really like it, so I think I’ll stick around this time.”

“That’s great!” Harry exclaims.

“Yeah, congrats, man,” Louis adds.

“Thanks, guys,” Niall smiles, turning on his heel, “I’ll see you around!”

2:15 PM: If Harry had added a number twelve to his list, it would’ve been to adopt a puppy. Growing up, he never got to have any pets, but was the kind of kid that would walk up to any owner and ask to pet their dog. He always told himself that as soon as he had his own place, he was going to get one for himself. His current apartment allows pets, so he decided it must be time.

“Look at this one!” Louis exclaims as he peers through the cage at tiny pug. It’s so cute and friendly that it’d probably be gone from the shelter just as fast as it got there.

“Aw!” Harry gushes as it jumps against the metal bars that separate them.

“It’s a female and her name is Coco,” Louis reads from the sign. “Harry, she’s perfect! We should get her.”

“Babe, we’ve barely stepped ten feet into here. Let’s look around,” Harry says, pulling him forward by his hand.

“Ohmigod look at this one!” Louis points to the cage right next to Coco’s, letting go of Harry’s hand to walk up to it.

Instead of following, Harry glances around at the other dogs for a moment. With them in the room is another couple and a family with three little kids that look like they’re going to pick out a new family pet. In the back corner, his eyes land on what looks like a border collie with brown and white fur. It’s laying down with its head on its paws, not paying much attention to its surroundings. Harry strolls over confidently.

The dog looks up at him as he crouches down in front of it. From a glance at the sign, he gathers that she’s a six-year-old female. He offers the back of his hand for her to sniff.

“Would you like to pet her?” a worker askes that appeared next to Harry. She was already reaching out to unlock the door.

As soon as Harry sits next to her, the dog curls right up to him. He pets her head, then she rolls over so he can stroke her belly. She’s loving every minute of it.

“She’s a beautiful dog,” Harry comments to the worker.

“She doesn’t get much attention, being one of our oldest dogs. Been here almost a month,” she tells him.

Harry doesn’t even notice Louis approach until he’s sitting down next to him. The dog stands up so she can get closer to him as well and nuzzles her nose into his hand so he’ll stroke her.

“Very friendly,” Louis says, scratching behind her ears with both hands. “What’s her name?”

“Bowie,” the worker says.

Harry and Louis look at each other as soon as she says it. A surprised, yet humoured smile grows on both of their faces. In that one look, they know they’ll be taking her home. And they also know there is no way they are changing her name.

4:30 PM: When they get home after an hour of filling out paperwork and doing interviews at the shelter, Harry plops himself onto the couch without even taking his jacket off, phone in one hand and bag of dog toys in the other. He drops the bag next to him. Tomorrow is when they’re going back to pick Bowie up and bring her home, but for now, he just wants to tell everyone he knows about her.

He sends the picture of her to his mum, his sister, people from work, and even to their new friends in America.

“Zayn and Liam said we have to Skype them after she’s settled so they can see her,” Harry tells Louis, who’s in the kitchen getting himself a glass of water after he put away the giant bag of dog food in the pantry; the bed they bought still in the car waiting to be brought in.

“Are they still in Canada?” Louis asks once he had chugged his drink. He proceeds to walk across the room to join Harry on the couch.

“Alaska now, I think.”

“Are they ever going to go home?” Louis asks as Harry rests his head on Louis’ shoulder and turns onto his side, still texting.

“I think the idea is that they’re looking for a new one.”

Harry finally clicks his phone off and props his feet up on the coffee table. Louis does the same, crossing his over Harry’s. Since his hands are no longer occupied, he picks up Louis’ to absentmindedly play with his fingers.

“Are you excited?” Harry asks.

“For Bowie?”

Harry nods. With his free hand, Louis runs his fingers through Harry’s hair as they sit there.

“Yeah, I am. I think she’ll like it here a lot.”

“We’ll have to take her for walks every day.”

“I can bring her to the studio with me some days,” Louis suggests.

“And she can sleep on the foot of our bed.”

“We can bring her to the park on weekends.”

Harry pauses to look up at him and smiles. “I’m really excited.”

Leaning in to one another, they meet in a short kiss. “Me too,” Louis says.

Then they kiss again a bit longer. Quite lazily, too, which often happens when they’re cuddling on the couch. When they end up horizontal, Louis reminds Harry that they have to get ready for their evening plans.

“We can be a little late,” Harry says before lowering himself for another kiss

“No, we can’t,” Louis says, his words muffled.

Harry groans, but ultimately sits back up anyway.

“When we get home,” Louis assures with a grin, pecking the corner of his mouth before he stands up to get ready.

4:45 PM: Getting ready is a lot more difficult when more than one person has to share the same bathroom, but Harry wouldn’t trade it for being alone for a second.

From the small cup next to his sink that now held two toothbrushes, he takes his own and squeezes a dollop of toothpaste on it. For two minutes he brushes. Well, maybe it was two minutes. He doesn’t really bother to keep track anymore.

This time, Louis is on the other side of the counter fixing his hair and putting some product in it. He’s wearing a loose grey knitted jumper with the sleeves rolled up. Perfect for fall weather, and perfect for making a good first impression. Harry picked a simple button-down with the first few buttons undone and black jeans to match. In the mirror they meet eyes for a moment. Harry looks Louis up and down, then Louis winks back, making Harry giggle in response.

If they don’t hurry up now, they really are going to be late.

5:00PM: As they rush towards the door, Harry grabs his jacket off of the coat rack. Louis only waits next to the open door with his key in hand, ready to lock it.

“You aren’t going to wear your denim jacket?” Harry asks as he steps out into the hallway next to him.

Louis glances at where it’s hanging. It’s by far the one that stands out the most on the rack. He just shrugs. “Maybe next time.”

5:25 PM: Over the phone, Harry promised they would arrive by 5:30, so by the time they pull up in front of the house, they’re right on time.

Harry puts the car in park and glances at Louis next to him. He’s rubbing his hands together that were getting clammy. Normally, he isn’t one to get nervous, but he’s never had to do this before. Harry kept telling him to be himself, but that’s much easier said than done.

“Don’t be nervous,” Harry tells him reassuringly. “Remember, you wanted to do this back when we were Anthony and Russell.”

“Well, good thing we didn’t,” Louis laughs. “That would be quite the uncomfortable discussion now.”

In another attempt to relax him, Harry takes Louis’ hand in his and kisses the back of it. “I love you,” he says. It’s a simple gesture, but it’s the only other thing he can think of to work.

“Are you sure _they_ will?” Louis raises one eyebrow. “Or like me, at least?”

Harry hesitates, not because he’s unsure, but because he wants to look at Louis for a moment. This guy who he’d only really met four months ago, but has actually known since an embarrassing incident back in school. Who he’d spent the craziest ten days of his life with, and who he hopes would spend many years with down the road. The guy who he let move into his apartment almost immediately after they started dating, even if it was mostly unintentional.

There’s no way of telling if he has settled on his regrets, at least in the grand scheme of his time on this Earth. But for now, he doesn’t have any. Harry loves his apartment, his job, his boyfriend, and his life. All these things that he once took for granted years ago, he couldn’t be more grateful for now.

For the first time in a long time Harry isn’t bored of his life. He’s excited.

“They’ll love you,” Harry nods. “I know they will.”

“I hope you’re right,” Louis sighs, but it’s hopeful – ready.

Once they let go of each other’s hand, they each step out of the car and look out at the house in front of them. Harry walks around the car so he’s at Louis’ side, then laces their fingers together again as he leads the way.

“Alright,” Harry says as they walk up the steps to the door, ready to ring the bell. “Ready to meet my family?”


End file.
